Exception to Every Rule
by fiction over reality
Summary: AU, non-magical. There's a Terrier involved that breaks the ice between the two strangers, Draco and Harry. As Harry takes care of Narcissa, the two become closer. Harry/Anthony  OC   and Harry/Draco later on.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Obviously, I only own the plot. If I were to claim ownership of the characters and be taken seriously, I would question your sanity and leave you with a remark about living your whole life under a rock. (Politely, of course.)

**Summary:** AU, non-magical. Some OC's here and there, but not too many. They don't play a big part in the story, don't worry. There's a Terrier involved that breaks the ice between the two strangers, Draco and Harry. I want my first Drarry fic to just establish my writing style and explore the relationship between them. Give it a shot. The beginnings of the story might be a bit slow but it gets better later on.

**Warnings:** This is a slash fic. Draco and Harry are the main two characters of the story. So if you're looking for a wider range of characters and detailed personalities, sorry to disappoint. It's also my first feeble attempt at a Drarry fic, or any sort of novel-length story, in fact. However, I have quite a bit of faith in my writing abilities and only ask that you give it a shot. I will (hopefully) drag you along with me every step of the way, leaving you breathless and panting for more in no time. In case I fail to live up to that ridiculously high expectation I just built for myself in your eyes, feel free to slam the door in my face and mutter under your breath about amateurs.

I don't know how long this story is going to be. Probably not very long, as it is sort of experimental. If I get some decent feedback and decide to write proper Drarry fics, I will do something with more of a plot to it. As it is, this story mostly, but not completely, ignores Draco and Harry's private lives and focuses mainly on their encounters. If you like the mystery and exciting twists in plots, this story is not for you. However, if you like conversations and encounters filled with sexual tension, then you have found your story.

**Shout-out:** I don't have a beta reader, or someone to read this back to me. There may be grammar and/or spelling mistakes. But my OCD on that will hopefully prevent total miscomprehension of my sentences on your part and save me from complete embarrassment. If you do spot a mistake though, feel free to point it out. I'm not going to bite you. I'm quite normal and nice, in fact. All fuzzy and whatnot inside.

xXx

**Chapter one:**

A particularly sunny Monday morning found Harry Potter on a busy sidewalk, contentedly humming a made-up tune under his breath. An easy smile lit up his face as he walked his golden Terrier, Balthazar. He looked at the sea of people rushing by him with their neat business suits and cups of caffeine or juice. They had their shoulders hunched and heads down, trying to keep the liquid from spilling while walking as fast as possible. The overall look that it gave them was haughty and unapproachable. Harry tried to feel some envy towards their full schedules and expensive lifestyles but couldn't feel any resentment towards his own undemanding and carefree life. He only felt a smug satisfaction at not having to paste a cold mask every day to deal with clients and sit behind a desk in a corporate building.

As he walked down the sidewalk, he couldn't find an ounce of regret about working in a nursing home. He could be himself around the elderly without being judged. Granted, there were a few senile ones that presented a challenge. Harry liked to put his charm into effect and see how far he could take it while still getting away with it. Fluttering his eye lashes at old ladies to usher them into actually taking their medicine or stop shouting and go into their rooms never hurt anybody.

Not earning a large amount of money was just fine. Helping people was worth it. He had enough money from his inheritance to live a pleasant life and still have money to pass on to his children. A glance down at his worn-out denims and T-shirt ensemble reminded him of the other main reason for his hatred towards the corporate world. He would do just about anything not to wear a suit. Wearing casual clothing was far more comfortable.

Harry lengthened his strides and smiled wider. He knew he was emanating a lazy aura and ignored the death glares that were directed his way. It wasn't his fault if people couldn't stand his relaxed posture and nonchalant expression when they were hurrying to get to work. He had every right to enjoy himself. Balthazar barked enthusiastically at being allowed to walk faster and Harry smiled down at the Terrier. Another bonus of having a part-time job was that he had a free morning and night. There was no need to overwork. He could afford leisurely walking Balthazar and still have extra time to himself. That was just as well because although Harry could easily afford a maid, he immensely enjoyed cooking proper meals and taking the time to clean his own house thoroughly.

The weather was getting steadily warmer and it brought Harry's daydreams to a stop. He looked up with a frown and a hand over his eyes to shield them against the sun. It was starting to get very warm and so he moved to the edge of the sidewalk where minimal protection from the hot sun was offered by the trees planted there. Harry caught a finch fluttering its wings under a tree a few feet further away and winced, instantly regretting changing sides. If he'd just put up with the sun, he could have saved the poor bird from Balthazar's wrath. And he could have also saved himself from a run behind the small dog as it chased the bird to his heart's content. He knew what was coming next. He knew that when his dog saw the finch there would be no stopping him. He tried to go back to the left side and remove the bird from Balthazar's line of sight, but he was too late. The small Terrier barked excitedly and lunged forwards, yanking a startled Harry with him. Harry groaned. He refused to be flung around after his dog chasing a bird on the sidewalk. This had happened many, many times. He clung tightly to the Terrier's leash. But it was no use. Balthazar started running at full speed, dragging Harry behind him.

While trying to run into as few people as possible, Harry thought that for such a small dog it was remarkable that the task of yanking a grown man around was even possible. The golden Terrier seemed intent on disregarding his own small size for the stern belief that if he thought he was bigger and stronger then it would be true. Harry gulped. It was surely working. All Harry could do was hold on. He had to concentrate on not falling over his own feet in his haste to catch up with the golden dog. Balthazar seemed completely unaware and not at all bothered by the fact that he should have yielded and stopped pursuing the bird after the first few yanks and disapproving yells directed his way. There was just no stopping him from snatching the finch that had insulted the dog by merely existing, Harry mused.

Balthazar had apparently also made it a personal goal of his to knock over every other person on the sidewalk in his quest to get to the finch and Harry had to continuously apologize for the rude behaviour of his dog. He couldn't fathom why the finch wouldn't just fly higher and get out of the biting range instead of hovering so close to ground. Harry tried to tighten his hold on the leash but didn't want to yank it too hard in case it would hurt the poor thing. It was hard to think of the golden Terrier as a 'poor thing' right now however and Harry was fed up. He apologized again as he bumped into someone when Balthazar abruptly turned left, still trailing after the bird. A sharp turn right after that and Balthazar wrenched its leash out of Harry's hands and was off. Harry yelped and started running after him. He was quick to realize that steering through the crowd was much easier when you were as small as a dog and could conveniently run through the empty space left between people's feet. Balthazar was soon way ahead of him.

Harry groaned and tried to push his way through people as fast as he could. Another morning run after his dog was in session and he decided that other people's suits were expendable. So what if he pushed them too harshly and they spilled coffee on their attire? Surely they had enough money to replace it with something even more extravagant. The crowd on the sidewalk had other ideas however and saw fit to send many curses and shouts his way. Harry couldn't bring himself to care about that at the moment. His mind was on more important things, frantically jumping from one possibility to the other. What if Balthazar ran to the middle of the road in his haste to catch the damned finch and got hit by a car? What if he got lost and Harry couldn't find him again? Worry filled his head and he started running faster, following the familiar barks of his dog.

xXx

Draco Malfoy watched a playful golden Terrier dash between people's feet. It had his tongue out and his leash was trailing behind it in the wind. His black eyes sparkled with excitement and a few animated barks escaped him while he ran straight towards Draco. The finch that it was obviously chasing shot up at the last moment and sat on the tree branch high above Draco's head. The Terrier came to an abrupt stop by the blonde man's feet, dumbfounded. It tried to stand on its hind legs and reach higher, but he was neither tall enough nor gifted with the skills necessary for climbing a tree. Draco swooped down and lifted the dog, holding it in his arms. He tried to stop further jerking of its body but the dog was still focused on the bird above and was trying to determine the best way of getting to it. Draco chuckled to himself and pet the dog on the head.

"Hmmm? What's your name pretty boy? Where's your owner?" Draco murmured softly to the small animal. Its silken fur was very smooth and stood like a golden halo around its body. He was easily the prettiest dog Draco had ever seen. He checked its name tag. It read 'Balthazar' and apparently a Harry Potter was its owner. Draco looked around curiously, trying to find the said Harry Potter.

xXx

Harry was starting to sweat from the long run by the time he had Balthazar in his sight again. He saw the golden dog come to a stop and sighed thankfully. He slowed down to a jog, not yet in the clear. Balthazar could take off again any minute. He was the most unpredictable and energetic creature Harry had ever encountered. Luckily, well, luckily for Harry but unluckily for Balthazar, the man that the small Terrier had stopped in front of swooped the dog off the sidewalk and gently held it in his arms, cutting short the dog's possible further plans of putting more distance between himself and Harry.

Harry finally reached his dog and the man that had most probably saved him from another extra fifteen minutes of running. He bent over and planted his hands over his knees, trying to catch his breath. His head was spinning from the unexpected long run and all the obstacles he'd encountered. Apparently everyone was grumpy enough on a Monday morning and did not care for moving to the side to make room for a desperately running man. Telling people continuously to 'please move aside,' while simultaneously trying not to waste his breath and meanwhile still keep track of Balthazar was highly exhausting. Harry just wanted to grab Balthazar, go home, take a quick shower and leave for work. Working in the calm environment that the nursing home provided him sounded great just about now. Others might not call the place soothing and frown upon it, only working there because there simply was no other option for them, but Harry loved it there. He felt at home around the musty sweet smell that clung to old people and he loved listening to their stories when they were feeling sentimental and nostalgic. Also, it was Monday and most of the seniors were to be lead to a park nearby to enjoy a refreshing day out and so it would be nice and quiet at the nursing home today. Harry had a shift in the nursing home and was not one of the ones that had to run around fretting after people in the park this Monday and he was thankful for that. He doubted he could muster enough energy after this to deal with anything more than giving the few people that stayed back their medicine and directing them to their respective rooms.

Draco wearily watched the panting figure in front of him. He supposed this was the owner. He looked at the messy brown hair that was standing up in every direction and tried to resist the urge of petting Harry's head as he had done Balthazar's to try and untangle the strands. How could one exit one's house with hair that messy? But then again, from the amount of panting both dog and owner were doing, Draco estimated that they must have been running for more than fifteen minutes. The wind could have messed up his hair. It probably wasn't this messy all the time, was it?

Draco shook himself and frowned. Why did he care anyway? He didn't even know the guy and he'd already thought far too much about his hair for it to be healthy musing.

Harry finally lifted his head and peeked at the man holding his dog from beneath the strands of hair covering his forehead and eyes. He really did need a haircut. His hair had just been so unmanageable all the time that Harry had given up trying to tame it. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and ran a hand through his dishevelled hair while trying to compose himself. He was met with a look of amusement lurking behind warm grey eyes that made him blush furiously. The blond in front of him was wearing formal ware not very different from the other businessmen and women around them. Even if he had been wearing ragged clothes, from the way he held himself and looked at the world expectantly Harry would have been able to tell that he was used to getting his way and came from a life much different than his. Harry was ready to grab Balthazar and leave without saying a word. Self-righteous people always set him on edge. But Balthazar was a fairly good judge of character and he seemed comfortable enough with being held so casually by the blond and so Harry decided to give the man a chance. After all, he also hated shallow people that judged others by their looks, so he wasn't going to be a hypocrite.

He let his eyes slowly roam the body in front of him. He soon realized that was not a good idea and swallowed. The man was simply _delicious_. The way that his black pants clung to his legs and hugged his form had Harry's eyes pasted to the slender body in a manner very different from the pitying look he'd given the businesspeople around him earlier that morning. The man's jacket was carefully draped over his right arm and so Harry could see the silky white shirt that had its sleeves neatly rolled up the elbows. He soon found his eyes travelling slowly up the bare forearms, gulping at the pale skin that was revealed. He saw a tattoo on the left arm that sparked his curiosity, but he didn't spend a lot of time investigating it. As interesting a contradiction the formal business suit and a tattoo were, Harry was far more interested in the muscles beneath it that were nicely toned. He licked his lips before he could think about what he was doing and his blush deepened when he realized what that must have looked like.

Draco held his breath when he felt those blazing emerald green eyes concentrate on him. He could easily feel the speculation behind the gaze and tried to hold himself rigidly for Harry to regard him while he studied the brunette in turn. Harry was still panting lightly and so his mouth was slightly open. He also had a pink tinge to his cheeks and for some reason the overall look of a panting Harry with a blush and messy hair twisted Draco's stomach in knots. As he openly gaped at the smaller man in front of him, transfixed, Harry's tongue darted out to wet his lips and all Draco could do was to barely stop himself from reaching out and touching those full lips that seemed so red. Was it normal for lips to be that red? And were green eyes always so intense? He realized how absurd a direction his thoughts were taking and cleared his throat. He could feel the tension building between them and tried to think of something matter of fact to say. Looking down at the wriggling animal in his arms, he realized that he had a perfect way of breaking the ice.

"He's much stronger than he looks," Draco offered, pointedly looking at the small dog that was struggling to break free. Balthazar still had his eyes firmly trained on the finch above and refused to be distracted. At the moment he was trying to use Draco as a climbing instrument to get himself closer to the finch on the tree above. Draco could see that Harry couldn't help but be amused by the surreal image that his dog was creating by wrinkling an obviously expensive shirt without being scolded for it. (Draco would stop by his house and change his shirt before going to work, he promised himself to stop from wincing and frowning at the dog. He would never admit it if called out on it, but the warm ball in his arms was comforting his nerves in ways he hadn't thought possible.) Harry started to slowly relax as the conversation starter allowed him to step into his comfort zone, as Draco had hoped it would. Draco started to relax in turn, but saw the fault in that move and tensed again after the dog's jerks threatened to break his hold.

"That's the whole problem. Every time he sees a bird, or a cat, or anything that moves in fact, off he goes. Barking mad, he is," Harry muttered, lowering accusing eyes to the dog. Despite his harsh words, Draco could hear the caring undertone and could tell the man didn't really mind the strange routine. He wondered if they always took the same path every morning. Would he see them again tomorrow? Did he want to see them again? Draco thought so. There was something intriguing about the smaller man and his dog.

He wanted to stay and chat but he was really going to be late for work, especially if he planned on changing his shirt. It didn't matter that he was the boss; he had to set an example and be a role model for his employees. He realized Harry was waiting for some sort of reply and found himself under the scrutiny of those emerald green eyes once more. He met Harry's gaze calmly and gave him a slow smile. Harry seemed taken aback. He was probably used to people treating him differently, Draco thought sadly. He seemed amazed that Draco was having a conversation with him instead of muttering something about people from a lower class trying to mingle with others above them and failing miserably or giving him a lecture about controlling his dog better. Draco suddenly felt like he had something to prove. That not all businessmen were prats, probably. That you could find something you had in common with them and build friendship on that. _Or perhaps something more_, his mind added to the end of Draco's thought. Draco kindly told his mind to shut up and not stick its nose in places it was not wanted.

"Yes, well. That's dogs for you," Draco remembered to add after what seemed like hours instead of minutes and put Balthazar down, holding on to the leash and passing it on to Harry. He stepped back reluctantly, watching the dog wag its tail and sniff his pants, finch forgotten. Perhaps just wrinkling his shirt was not enough and now the Terrier wanted to tear his pants as well, Draco mused darkly. Already having to change shirts, Draco decided it didn't really matter and left the dog alone to do whatever it wished.

Balthazar seemed to sense the silent permission and started nibbling on the ends of Draco's pants. Or perhaps it would have gone on nibbling even if Draco had had something to say about it. He looked at the dog disbelievingly. Did it always warm up this quickly to strangers? Harry's matching look of disbelief told him that no, it was just him. He felt smug at that and smirked. The smirk was quick to disappear however as he realized that he now had no idea how to continue the flow of conversation. He wanted to meet Harry again but how did you tell someone you'd met on a sidewalk something like that? Someone who was already prejudiced against you just because of your career and lifestyle? 'I want to show you what a great personality I have behind my cold persona, so let's be friends?' Right. Strangely enough, this encounter was the most exciting thing that had happened to Draco in days. All of his business meetings were far duller than he'd imagined they would be and going to another long day of work was hardly anything to look forward to. This mysterious man and his energetic dog could be a refreshing distraction from his predictable life and he wished he could meet them again at a more convenient time. The man was intriguing. And Draco doubted anyone had ever accepted him as fast as Balthazar had.

He decided that he wanted to know all about Harry. He wanted to know that if Harry didn't have enough money to wear proper clothes instead of ones that looked at least three years old, then how could he afford living in this neighbourhood? Or was he just walking someone else's dog who lived here? He wanted to have a lengthy conversation and find what Harry looked like when he laughed. Or when he got really angry. Or when he was thoughtful. Draco put a stop to his thoughts right then. He was getting way ahead of himself. Harry didn't even know his name and Draco was already planning their future encounters and conversations.

"I'm Draco, by the way," Draco said cautiously, deciding to leave out his last name at the last minute in case Harry had heard of him before and would judge him on it. He really was a different person in the privacy of his family and friends. The face he showed the world and the face he wore in the comfort and privacy of his home were two completely different ones. Draco held out his hand for Harry to shake but soon regretted putting the brunette on the spot as Harry blushed in embarrassment. His hands were still sweaty from his earlier run. He tried to wipe his hands dry on his pants before shaking Draco's back. Draco tried not to cringe. He could always wash his hands later. After he changed his shirt. And his pants. He frowned. If they ever met again, Draco would take care not to destroy his complete outfit once more. It was not like him to be so careless. He then glanced down at a content Balthazar while it chewed on the hem of his pants and took his previous promise back. He knew he'd always have a weak spot for the small Terrier. Draco didn't realize he was still holding onto the brunette's hand until Harry pulled away and the cold air replaced his warm touch.

"I'm Harry. And this here is Balthazar," Harry let go of Draco's hand and unconsciously wiped it on his pants again while Draco looked disdainfully at the gesture. Hadn't the man ever heard of hygiene for goodness' sake?

"Oh, and thanks for catching him for me. I usually have to run after him for far longer before he slows down enough for me to catch up." Harry added hurriedly. He was going to be late for work. But he couldn't get his feet to move. There was something about the blond and those piercing grey eyes and the way they regarded him –and what was with that tattoo? Surely a long story there– that rooted him to the ground. He frowned at the strange thought filling his head and decided he was still affected by the rush of the run and it would be better for him to just leave now. He distinctly remembered thinking of the man as 'delicious' before and if that wasn't a warning sign for him to leave as soon as possible before he embarrassed himself, for example gave in to the impulse of letting his fingers brush against the hand he'd shook earlier, then he didn't know what was.

Draco wanted to point out that it was no problem really, since the dog had stopped by his feet and all he had to do was bend down and pick him up. But by the time he had opened his mouth Harry and a reluctant Balthazar had turned and walked away. Draco muttered a "Well, goodbye to you too," under his breath. He didn't really know what to make of Harry. He just hoped he'd have the chance to make up his mind about it later on. The intensity of wanting to see the brunette another time and forming a friendship overwhelmed him. It was quite bizarre. Draco never made friends easily. Trying to clear his head of any Harry- or dog-related thoughts, Draco shook himself and tried to go back into his cold and successful businessman persona once again.

xXx

The walk home that Harry had estimated would take about ten minutes was extended to twenty minutes. That was due to Balthazar's running in circles. It had made Harry completely lose sense of where they were and they had gotten lost a few times on the way back. Harry never had a good sense of direction and that was one of the reasons he preferred not to drive anywhere. He usually took the bus or simply walked to work.

So when Harry and an obedient and rightfully shamed Balthazar finally reached the familiar white building, Harry sighed gratefully and quickened his stride. As soon as he had turned legal, he'd moved out of his aunt's and uncle's house and into this building with a golden puppy as a house warming present. The building had been brown back then, but the colour had been peeling even then and by now there was hardly any trace of colour left on it. Harry stopped at the doorstep and reached for the keys in his pocket. His breathing had slowed down and his brain had started working again while they were walking back home. Going over the conversation with Draco in his head, Harry had realized how abruptly he'd cut it off and had left without a goodbye. He deeply regretted it, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He bit his lip and closed the door behind him, reaching down to take Balthazar's leash off.

He couldn't remember ever being so openly attracted to someone before. In the middle of a sidewalk, no less. He didn't even really know Draco. He dismissed it as only physical attraction and decided to forget about it. Torturing himself with thoughts of what could have happened between them was pointless. He was probably never going to see the man again.

xXx

Draco pinched his nose and sighed internally. He had tuned out the business-related conversation going on around him ever since he'd realized that his contribution to it was unnecessary. He was once again thinking about the incident that morning. In spite of deciding to clear his head of it, throughout the day he'd gone over it and had tried to find out what he'd done to cause Harry's abrupt leave. He finally decided that it must have had nothing to do with him. He looked down at his right hand, the one that Harry had clutched in his own. It still felt warmer than his left one. He hadn't washed it yet, even though it had been hours since the incident and Draco always valued hygiene above all else. He tried very hard not to think about what that could mean. He refused to call it obsession. In fact, he refused to touch any thoughts about 'obsession' with a ten-foot pole. How could he be obsessed with someone he barely knew? And had met only a few hours ago?

Draco thought he would like to try again at a normal conversation with Harry in spite of all the confusing emotions swimming in his head. Without a dog between them this time. But where would he find Harry anyway? He decided to leave the issue for later prodding and turned back to the world around him and the conversation that was going on. As boring as it may be, it concerned his business - the only thing that he was supposed to be obsessed with.

It was then that Draco realized he'd been writing Harry's name idly on a piece of paper.

review? Did you like? hate? please let me know :)


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the reviews!

**A/N:** I realized that only having two characters in the story could soon get old, so I've added some OC's in this chapter. Also, take care of the time breaks. They are months apart in the beginning. If you're still confused with the timeline, check the bottom. I'll explain it there. Hmm and the part about adding no complications to this story? Where's the fun in skipping all the sexual tension that that causes? Complications are back in the picture. Thus, I'll edit my chapter one summary to match my new intentions.

**Chapter two:**

It had almost been three months since Harry had met Draco that overwhelming morning. He hadn't seen the man since. He'd tried to retrace his steps and find the alley in which they'd stood and maintained an awkward conversation for some time. But he'd been going in circles to no avail. Even Balthazar's supposed keen sense of smell was no help. But then again, Harry suspected that his nose had lost its sensitivity due to an excessive amount of exposure to strong smells. The dog walked around sticking its nose everywhere and was sneezing half the day because of all the strange smells invading its nostrils.

In spite of it all, Harry still spent his morning walks with Balthazar going through alleys that seemed even a tad familiar. It was done with hopes that he might accidentally find the alley and have somewhere to start properly looking for Draco from.

He had finally given in to Ron and Hermione's prodding about his giddy mood after a week and told them about the enticing encounter with Draco. They had listened enthusiastically, with Hermione jumping on the spot, too excited to hold it in any longer. They had been worried about Harry and his non-existent love life for a while. Harry had been fed up with lovers trying to change his personality to match the perfect one they had of him in their minds and some had even gone as far as trying to ruin his reputation in Saint Mungo's so that Harry would have to leave the nursing home and find a 'proper' job. He had finally stopped dating, deciding that it was not for him.

His two best friends had been thrilled for him and on the edge for a while, in hopes he'd find Draco again. But after many days had passed with no sign of the blond anywhere, they had given up hope and had tried to gently get Harry to stop looking for someone that was impossible to find. Harry still liked to believe that it was possible that one day he'd run into Draco on another random sidewalk. But the level of his excitement over the matter had gone down gradually until he was on the verge of believing that banging his head against a wall would be more helpful in relation to finding Draco than his current irrational way of searching.

Glazed eyes were ruefully pasted to his feet as he sighed and turned around to go back home. He'd been extending their morning walks and even trying all different kinds of time schedules, from early hours of dawn to well after he was due for work in Saint Mungo's. But there was really no point, was there? He might as well move on with his life and forget about it.

At their usual Friday dinners in Ron and Hermione's house, Harry had noticed a subtle push from his two best friends. They had been bringing 'friends' from work in turn each week and made a point of discussing every single detail of their lives with Harry. Well, now that he thought about it, they hadn't really been all that subtle about it after all. Not unless you counted throwing someone different at him every single week a subtle approach, which Hermione and Ron probably did.

Balthazar, completely unaware of Harry's sullen mood, had been treating the brunette the same way as before. He still tried to get away with chewing on Harry's shoes or spare pieces of clothing that he'd left around unattended and he still hated showers; always trying to push Harry in the bath before him. He still was the goofy animal that Harry loved. In a completely different light, everyone else was walking on eggshells around him, worrying nonstop about his moods and love life. Everyone seemed to have his life planned out for him a different way. The bitter irony was that they were all also thoroughly convinced that _their_ perceptions of his desires and needs were completely accurate and that they had the perfect life plan that suited him. Even the seniors at the nursing home had been questioning Harry about his mood and wouldn't leave him alone.

Harry took deep breaths, trying to calm down. He told himself that he was glad he had people around him that cared about his welfare and promised to stop whining about it all the time. From his childhood and most of teenager years of living with the Dursley's Harry had learned not to take such things for granted. He was grateful for his friends and his new and improved life. If he had to let go of the...unrealistic...vision of meeting Draco once more to gain back the happiness and carefree life he'd built for himself, then he would do just that.

After all, Harry didn't even know if the blond wanted to meet him again. Maybe he was avoiding the sidewalks, trying not to even accidentally bump into Harry. Maybe Harry had read too much into the situation or had upset the blond more than he'd realized by ending their conversation so abruptly. He shrugged, prepared to go back to his old life and leave Draco behind him. It didn't matter now.

If only he could convince himself of that, everything would go back to being Okay.

xXx

The warm rays of the morning sun filtered in through the bedroom window and brushed against Harry's skin. He slowly opened his eyes, stretching out carefully. Balthazar had a habit of sleeping by the foot of his bed and Harry had had unknowingly stretched his legs and kicked the Terrier off the bed a few times in the past. The dog had not taken waking up that way lightly and had sulked around the house the whole day, avoiding Harry and most certainly holding a grudge against him for being so careless. After five years of living with the moody animal, Harry had gotten used to many of his strange traits and probably wouldn't know what to do with himself if someday he had to go on living without Balthazar. The dog was a big part of his life.

Harry's eyes were slowly adjusting to the blurry surroundings that always swam in front of him when he didn't have his glasses on and he saw something suspiciously red resting on his bedside table. Something that most definitely had not been there when he'd gone to sleep. Now that he was paying more attention, he could detect a distinguished smell as well. It was so strong that he was surprised he hadn't noticed it right after he'd woken up. Harry imagined a clicking sound going off in his head as the pieces fit together and he was able to make sense of what the object was and where it had come from. Grinning widely, he reached for his glasses and blinked as the shimmering red rose, still fresh with droplets on its petals, came into focus.

Harry was hoping that Anthony would soon be a big part of his life as well. He was one of Hermione's colleagues from the library that he'd been pushed into meeting at one of the Friday night dinners from back when his two friends were still intent on introducing him to all of their co-workers in hopes of finding someone interesting and adequate for Harry. Anthony was one of the few Harry had actually been able to have a proper conversation with and the only one that he'd had wanted to meet again.

He was polite and usually quiet, but he observed everything and paid close attention to detail. The rose by Harry's bedside table proved it further. The fact that he'd snuck in Harry's house early in the morning just to leave a rose while taking care not to wake him made Harry's stomach tingle pleasantly. They had been steadily going out for a month and a half now and Harry's liking for the man had been also steadily increasing. He had the most beautiful laugh Harry had ever heard and the undertones of genuine pleasure and contentedness running through it made the brunette believe that Anthony really cared about him and truly enjoyed being with Harry. Of course, he had some...strange...faults as well. One of the more unusual things about him that Harry hadn't really been able to understand was his sensitivity towards the shortened version of his name. He only wanted people to call him Anthony and nothing else. As absurd as that may be, Harry had dated people with far stranger phobias, he had even dated people that hated dogs and somehow had made it work, for a while at least, and was sure he himself wasn't perfect either. So until he found something about the man (his boyfriend?) that would inconvenience his normal everyday life, he was going to give their simmering relationship a chance.

Sometimes when Harry leaned against him and slid his tongue across Anthony's lips, he would feel impatient at the slow pace of their relationship, but he was so intent on making it work this time that he wanted to do everything right. He didn't want to mess it up. If they broke up, it wouldn't be Harry's fault. He just couldn't live with any more disappointments in his life right now. All of his past relationships had been a flame that had burned and soared high for a while but had soon inevitably died out.

He still occasionally wondered about Draco when he was cooking a meal or washing Balthazar in the bath. He had caught himself thinking more than once about the cold grey eyes that had turned warm when they'd met his or the shimmering golden strands of fine hair that were easily distinguishable in a crowd. But he was trying to put a stop to them and the frequencies of sudden flashes of a now distant memory in his head were decreasing. He was almost sure that in a couple of more weeks the thoughts of the blond wouldn't be crossing his mind at all, consciously or not.

He still felt wistful when he wondered about what could have been. The charged atmosphere between them had seductively whispered sweet promises in his ears, but at the time he hadn't even thought far enough into the future as to at least ask the man for a number or even his last name so he could find him later on.

Harry looked at the beautiful rose still clutched in his hands and felt all of his regret dissolve away. He was with Anthony now. He was content with his life once more.

But was it enough to be just content? Would he have been _happy _with Draco in his life? Harry had no way of truly knowing the answer to that.

xXx

Harry yawned behind his hand and looked at the mostly empty room in front of him. Just a couple of months ago, this place had been soaring with seniors and their demanding shouts for more water or the TV to be turned up. Now, the TV was off. Some were staring off into space or out the windows and others were playing board games half-heartedly.

With the opening of Saint Jude's, the new nursing home, and its promises of luxury and comfort of people's own private houses, almost everyone had transferred quickly to the new place and had soon forgotten all about Saint Mungo's. It was more expensive, but it compensated for it by offering more comforts in a single day than people needed in their whole lives, Harry thought grimly.

It was just strange seeing Saint Mungo's this empty. He kept telling himself he'd get used to it soon enough, but it had been two weeks now and it still hit him as strongly as it had the first time he had been faced with the empty corridors and hushed voices.

He smiled at Mrs. Wallis as she entered the entertainment room and went over to help her settle down in an arm chair in front of the TV. When she didn't ask him to turn it on for her, he raised an eyebrow enquiringly. She had never expressed any interest in engaging in board games with others, or any kind of group activity, in fact. But maybe she was just as bored as Harry was with the silence that hung thickly around them and was open to new suggestions.

Mrs. Wallis turned deliberately shy but hopeful eyes on him and Harry crossed out the possibility of her wanting to actually socialize. She was still the same manipulative Mrs. Wallis he'd come to know and appreciate.

"Would you mind playing the piano for us, Harry? You haven't played it in so long that I fear I might be forgetting what it sounds like," Mrs. Wallis lowered her lashes at Harry, trying to demure him into doing as she wished.

Harry forced a laugh. It sounded strained even to his own ears. He knew that he hadn't touched the piano for exactly five months. Ever since he'd given up hope on meeting Draco again. He didn't feel like playing it now, but Mrs. Wallis had always been one of his favourites and Harry was so relieved when she hadn't moved away to Saint Jude's with the others that he knew he would eventually come to doing anything that would please her. Anything, within reason. Or so he hoped. Even if he had been considering turning her down, by now he could feel the others turning to look at him with a similar brightness and hope swimming in their eyes. He couldn't very well let everyone down now could he?

Giving Mrs. Wallis what he hoped was a reassuring smile to let her know he'd be back soon; he slowly and reluctantly went to the nurses' station and grabbed the bundle of keys. He tried to ignore all the knowing smiles and anticipating gazes directed his way.

It had been a sort of a ritual of theirs in the past. Everyone would gather in the small room when he started playing the piano and they would all hum along, creating a very soothing atmosphere. Even Mrs. Wallis that didn't appreciate conforming would wear a softer expression and let the shadow of a smile touch her lips.

He knew that even though the population of Saint Mungo's, both in staff and patients, had reduced considerably, the need to gather around and share this activity together was still present and would bring everyone to the small room once more.

He took small steps towards the old piano, regarding the fine layer of dust particles that had settled on top of it. With careful and steady hands, he opened the lock and gently lifted the protective panel of wood. He let his fingers trail slowly across the keys as he sat down in front of the piano. Sitting here now, this feeling of total calm and _rightness _falling over him, he couldn't fathom why he'd given up playing in the first place. It was like coming home after a very long and exhausting day.

Closing his eyes, he let his fingers travel swiftly across the piano and lost himself in the melody that filled the room.

xXx

Draco followed the sound of the enchanting notes that seemed to be calling to him and linked his fingers with those a bit shorter and much softer than his, trailing her behind him with a gentle pull. Narcissa went with him agreeably. Draco suspected she was charmed by the music as well. He couldn't blame his mother. The music was beautiful. It spoke volumes of unspoken feelings to Draco.

There was pain, oh yes, lots of pain. But there was also a hopeful tune mixed within all of that somewhere. The music turned slightly louder and the notes wrapped around each other in a frenzy, conveying excitement. They soon died out, giving place to longer and more sombre notes. Draco wouldn't admit it, but tears were pricking at his eyes by that stage. He had to find out who was playing this melody. The music was strong and it moved him. He felt the need to reassure the artist, to hug him or her tightly until all of the pain that was so evident through the music would give way to happier feelings.

He tugged Narcissa along more impatiently. His mother could be slow at the most inconvenient times. He could see the room now. The doorway was just a few feet away. The music was influencing him even more from this close vicinity and he couldn't take it anymore. He had to see the artist.

Rounding around the corner, the pair of them finally reached the doorway. Draco wanted to rush in, but was frozen by the image that was presented to him. He thought he'd seen...was that...

"Harry?" Draco whispered, breathless. He couldn't believe it. He'd spent five months looking for the brunette, and after finally admitting defeat, here was Harry, in a room full of elder people, playing the most wonderful melody.

Draco remembered all the emotions that had passed through the music and could only think of the need to comfort Harry, to make sure that he wasn't hurting. It didn't matter that he had no idea why the small brunette was caught in such an extreme conflict of emotions. He just didn't want to see him in pain anymore. He wanted to find the source of that pain and banish it forever.

Draco stood there, staring at Harry, trying to figure out how to reach out to him without scaring him away for another period of five months with only a few sentences. It was what had happened last time and Draco wasn't sure he'd be able to find Harry again, accidentally or not. These five months had been hard on Draco. He was used to getting what he wanted. And what he wanted was Harry. But did Harry want him? Would he let Draco take care of him?

xXx

When he finally stopped playing, his back was stiff from the straight posture he'd held himself in. He had no idea how much time had really passed since he let the music travel through him, becoming one with his soul, but for once, that didn't matter. Losing control seemed like a silly thing to be frightened of right now.

If only Harry could let the same logic of giving up control rule his relationship with Anthony and let it take him away the way that the melody had done just now, he strongly believed that everything would work itself out. But the bitter truth was that Harry was too scared to give up that control. He needed something to be sure of. He needed something to give him some semblance of power.

He needed control in his relationship the way a fish needed oxygen in its water. Did that mean his relationship with Anthony was doomed to failure just like all of his previous ones no matter how hard he tried to do each step right? Harry sighed. No. Real life was much more complicated than a simple comparison to the existence of a fish.

He slowly returned his attention back to the world around him as he heard the applause and soft cheers. Turning around and facing people with a genuine smile this time, Harry could feel that he'd finally let go of some things that were deeply bothering him. So what if Saint Jude's was getting all of their patients now? They still had about sixteen people left here and that was good enough for Harry. When had he become this person that only cared about competition and kept scores on who struck who how hard? As far as he was concerned, Saint Jude's opening was a good thing. The more fragile people who needed the extra care would go there. And meanwhile, the ones who couldn't afford that luxury would come to Saint Mungo's. It all worked out in the end.

Another knot that had untwisted itself while he'd been floating through the notes vibrating the air around him pleasantly was the grudge that he still more or less held against Draco. He had blamed the blond for not trying hard enough to find him. He still partially blamed Draco, but realized there was no point in holding a grudge against someone who wasn't a part of his life. True, he had wanted Draco to be part of his life before. But he also hadn't met Anthony before.

He now realized he would have never been able to let the man go if it hadn't been for the persistence of Hermione and Ron and the patience with which Anthony treated him. It had helped him untangle Draco from his thoughts and for Anthony to gain his affection in return. A part of him would always have looked back and wondered 'what if,' but now Harry could finally let Draco go.

With a satisfied smile, Harry lifted his gaze and regarded the crowd around him, all wearing soft smiles. He gazed at an unfamiliar silhouette standing by the door and locked eyes with a slightly dazed blond. He blinked slowly. But...it couldn't be. But, it was. How? How had the man found him after five months?

From the shocked expression on Draco's face that mirrored his own, he concluded that the blond had found him by accident. Harry felt his smile freeze on his face. Just when he'd decided to let Draco go at last, of course the man had to show up at the door, seeking entrance into his life and thoughts once more.

He could see that Draco was shocked to find him here, but not as shocked as Harry was to find the blond in the doorway, glimpsing at this intimate setting of his life as he expressed himself freely through music. He'd chosen to share this part of himself with the elders, but certainly not with Draco who thought he could just show up in Harry's life whenever he liked and then disappear again. Harry felt a slight disbelief emanating from his mind towards that last sentence. After all, it wasn't as if Draco had known Harry worked here. How could he? But that didn't matter to Harry at the moment. He had just come to the conclusion that the blond must have been standing there for a while now, watching him and listening to him play the piano.

The familiar blush that seemed to be permanently pasted on his cheeks while Draco was around heated up Harry's skin. Not that he'd had a lot of opportunities to test that theory, as he'd only been around the man twice. He felt a tug of _want_ pull at him to go over there and place his hands on Draco to make sure the man was really there and not just a figment of his imagination.

It was then that Harry detected something else lying behind the shock in Draco's eyes. There was raw passion and desire in Draco's expression as he kept unblinking and slightly round eyes on Harry while his hand hovered halfway between them. It was as if he wanted to reach out for Harry but was caught in between some deep and conflicting emotions.

_Maybe he doesn't want to do something like that in public_, Harry fumed, trying to forcibly push some sense back into his head. He had totally forgotten that they were in the middle of a room filled people who were becoming more and more aware that there was something going on between the new comer and Harry.

Draco shifted back and found something better to do with his hands as he put them around the woman that was standing next to him. Harry hadn't even noticed her until then. An unjustified feeling of jealousy threatened to wash over him before Harry could look more closely at the older woman and see the family resemblance there. That was probably his mother then, or an aunt. Of course. Harry was so embarrassed with the way he was reacting that he wanted to just get up and leave. But he was the one on acceptance duty thanks to Saint Jude's for the short number of staff so he had to go see what Draco and the gracefully aged woman wanted.

Harry remembered to lock up the piano before he got up and walked past Draco through the door. He did his best to become as small as he possibly could, but their shoulders still brushed and he felt a spark warm up the place they had touched and spread through him. He swallowed, pretending as if nothing had happened. He dragged his feet towards the counter, assuming he would be quietly followed there without glancing backwards to make sure. He couldn't risk locking eyes with Draco again. He was afraid that his own conflicted emotions reflected in Draco's eyes would make him start screaming at the man right there in the middle of the hallway. Better to treat this professionally. The way he was trained to deal with every patient.

The walk to the counter, however short it may have been, gave Harry a chance to compose himself and collect his thoughts. He found it strange that Draco had brought his mother or even aunt to Saint Mungo's. He surely could afford Saint Jude's. It was really curious.

Harry was genuinely curious about it. After only feeling mild emotions for almost half a year, the usually normal feeling of curiosity was intensified to the point of overwhelming him. How long had it been since he had actually shown so much interest in something? He hadn't been genuinely interested in anything for a long time now. He'd simply gone on living after the encounter with Draco. It was as if the man had taken a crucial part of Harry with him when they'd parted. But the worse thing was that Harry hadn't even realized it until now. He hadn't noticed his lack of emotions and interest in daily life. He'd thought that he was the same as he'd always been. As he looked back now, he finally understood why his friends had been so worried about him. It didn't matter that after playing the piano he'd gained back some of his old personality, it mattered that he'd been a different person for half a year without realizing anything was amiss.

After the bubbles of hysteria inside him calmed down a bit, he grasped the whole meaning of his thoughts and feelings. He would need to hold on to Draco as the man's presence and influence seemed tied with his own happiness and well being. That wouldn't be fair to Anthony, he knew. He'd promised that he'd give their relationship a chance and he really did believe he could fall in love with Anthony. Now that he was conscious of how he'd changed and hardened he would be able to fight it and stay himself this time. He still didn't know Draco but he knew Anthony. Why should he value Draco more? Since Harry still at least partially blamed Draco for not reaching out and trying hard enough to find him, he was content with being biased towards Anthony and dismissing Draco.

He realized he'd been standing there frowning down at the counter in front of him for some time now while Draco and the older woman with long blonde hair some shades darker than Draco's patiently waited for some sort of recognition as they stood on the other side of the counter. Harry cleared his throat noisily and turned the computer towards him.

"Are you here for a tour or registration?" Harry asked no one in particular as he stared at the computer screen.

"Um, registration first and then a tour would be good," Draco answered Harry with a slightly confused tone.

Good, Harry thought. He can get a taste of his own medicine. See what it feels like to be ignored. He soon felt guilty for thinking that, but wasn't going to let it show for the life of him. Draco was here as a concerned relative of Harry's soon-to-be patient and that was how he would treat him. Coldly and politely.

"Very well. Name of patient?"

"Narcissa Malfoy," Draco replied a bit shakily.

He could tell the blond was trying to be cold in turn but couldn't still quite cover all the hurt in his voice. He felt smug at being able to control his emotions better and decided that any day he could get one over Draco would be a good day. He then hurriedly snatched the thought back and buried it in some deep dark corner of his head because it had sounded like he was planning on seeing Draco on lots of days and arguing with him on a regular basis. That was something he was never going to fool himself into believing ever again. It was bad enough that the man had stolen half a year of his life with just a ten minute encounter and Harry wasn't going to let it affect him ever again.

"Relation to the patient?"

"She's my mother," Draco's voice was still very unsteady as he answered.

Harry felt glee at that. But then he made the mistake of looking away from the computer screen to glance at Narcissa and saw something that ripped the glee right out of his chest. Draco had Narcissa's hand clutched in one of his as he tightly held on to her arm with his other hand; seemingly holding on to his lifeline. As if he was the one being admitted to a nursing home and not his mother.

He realized that the reason Draco's voice had been shaking without control wasn't the fact that he wasn't as good as masking his emotions. Draco's voice was unsteady because a lifetime of practiced emotions had not prepared him for this day. He obviously cared greatly for his mother. So why not take care of her himself? Harry was sure by now that he couldn't mask his emotions because they were too overwhelming to be hidden away.

Harry felt pity towards Draco, and shame towards his own childish behaviour, but decided it was for the best after all. He should treat Draco as a client and be done with it. He couldn't let himself fall for someone who was going to leave without a trace for God knew how long next time around.

He glanced at how Draco held onto Narcissa again and saw the error in his thoughts. Draco wasn't going anywhere this time. He was going to be visiting the nursing home as much as he could to try and keep Narcissa company and keep her from getting lonely. Or was he trying to keep himself from getting lonely? Harry decided that it worked both ways. He guessed he could be nicer to Draco if he was going to be a permanent figure here. But he would have to earn it first.

"Are you on any medications right now, Mrs. Malfoy?" Harry gently asked Narcissa. He didn't want her to feel completely excluded and shut out of controlling her own faith. And by trying to treat Draco like a client earlier on he had forgotten how important interaction with the patient was. Could he ever be the professional he knew he was around Draco or would the man always distract him to no end?

Narcissa met Harry's eyes with a small smile and shook her head.

"Then may I ask your reason for staying here? And would you like me to hand you information on Saint Jude's? I hear they offer a much more comfortable...are you alright Mrs. Malfoy?" Harry trailed off alarmingly, reaching out to the frail woman across the counter. Narcissa had gone terribly pale at the mention of Saint Jude's.

"She's staying in Saint Mungo's. Are you implying that you don't have the necessary skills or equipment to take care of her here?" Draco almost barked at Harry.

Harry gathered himself back over the counter. "No, it's not that. Of course we do. We're going to take great care of you, Mrs. Malfoy. I'm sorry for... I'm sorry." He didn't exactly know what he was supposed to be apologizing for, since he had no idea what had startled the woman so badly.

He quickly filled in the rest of the registration form and printed it out for Draco and Narcissa to sign. After that, they went on a quick tour and with each passing second and meaningless exchange of words, 'There's the garden, we spend afternoons in there, it's quite lovely,' or 'the showers are on this side of the building,' the tension seemed to crumple into nothing. By the end of the tour Narcissa was settled quite comfortably in a room with a window that overlooked the garden. Harry smiled at her as he stepped out of the room after Draco, leaning in to close the door behind him to offer the woman some privacy.

"Dinner starts at seven. You'll hear the bell go. I'll come and accompany you to the dining hall, Mrs. Malfoy."

Harry was satisfied to note that Narcissa was getting ready for a short nap before going to dinner. Being comfortable enough to sleep was very important and usually hard for people that had just arrived. It seemed Narcissa wouldn't be having that problem. Harry followed that line of thought to the woman's earlier distress and wondered what she _did_ have a problem with.

He started down the long hallway, going in the cupboard to get some clean sheets for Narcissa, in case she got cold and needed more blankets, before he remembered that Draco was out there with him and following him around. He scowled at the wall and the shelves that covered it from bottom to top, holding the extra sheets, towels, cleaning products and other things. How had he forgotten Draco's presence? What was with him today?

Draco had obviously run out of patience with Harry's silent musings and came after him into the cupboard, closing the door behind him.

Harry felt alarmed although the cupboard was big enough to comfortably allow five people in at once. He was also sure that Draco wouldn't hurt him. He swallowed, looking at the frown distorting the blonde's expression. He was _almost_ sure that Draco wouldn't hurt him.

Draco read the panic in Harry's expression and stepped back reluctantly. That gave Harry room to breathe and he forced himself to relax, reminding himself that he was still mad at Draco and his five month silent period and thus Draco was the one who should be cowering against Harry's temper and not the other way around. It wasn't as if he owed the guy anything. After all, it wasn't Draco who had been roaming the streets with a dog trailing after him that was constantly trying to run after small birds or other dogs or cats that were moving completely opposite to the direction Harry had wanted to go in.

Harry was getting angrier by the second, all the resentment and anger he'd kept inside rushing to get out. Draco didn't feel how real the threat was and his frown deepened.

Harry couldn't hold it in any longer. He knew he wouldn't be making any sense to Draco, but he just had to get it out. He wasn't sure if he was thankful or annoyed when Draco started the conversation first.

"I don't care if you hate me Harry. I don't care. I thought I would be able to forget meeting you and go on living my life but it's not working, alright? So just tell me what I did to make you despise me so strongly that you ignored me for five months and didn't bother contacting me again so I can make up for it and get it behind us. When I met you, the only thing I could think about was that I wanted to see you again and have a normal conversation with you to see what you're like and maybe form a friendship and then you just disappear! Just tell me Harry, am I really that horrible that you left without a goodbye and then just ignored me for five months?" Draco looked at Harry with narrowed eyes, daring him to say that yes, Draco was in fact quite horrible.

Harry couldn't believe this. How had _he_ ignored Draco? He'd got it the other way around and Harry would set him straight. He felt a portion of his anger give way to some astonishment, though.

"_I _ignored _you_? You were the one who disappeared! If anyone should be mad, it's me! I went looking for you every single morning for three months! Of course I wanted to meet you again! But I looked everywhere, and I bet you weren't even trying to find me. If you were, I would have definitely caught sight of you at least once! So don't you go on telling me how I feel about you and how much I despise you. It was you who was ignoring me, not the other way around, Draco." Harry crossed his arms and glared at Draco.

"You looked for me every morning for three months?" Draco was momentarily shocked into forgetting about the argument and his mouth was slightly open.

"Yes. Balthazar and I tried to find our way back to that alley, but I suppose neither of us has such a great memory of our surroundings." Harry said gloomily, the disappointment of returning empty handed after each morning still ringing fresh in his body after all this time. He wondered if he should find it more alarming that Draco had been able to wrap him so completely around his finger in only ten minutes as to arouse such strong and lasting emotions within him.

"Oh." Draco looked at Harry with an amazed expression for a few minutes before he remembered he should be defending his side of the argument instead of letting Harry distract him from it.

"But what do you mean you couldn't find me? I was all over the papers! I told them some nonsense story about losing my wallet that had many important cards inside and had them print the story with a picture of me and number of contact on the first page, just so that you would recognize me and call!"

Harry looked at Draco, dumbfounded.

"Are you serious? You got the cover page for that? Who _are _you?"

"It doesn't really matter who I am. Well, in this case, it did help. But with the right amount of money, you can get anything you want. Now explain your obvious dismissal of all of the hard work I put into reaching out to a stranger," Draco fixed Harry with a pointed stare. "...Please."

Harry was surprised that being called a stranger actually stung. He stepped closer to Draco and smiled ruefully.

"I don't read the paper. It's a load of bullshit. But I still think it's very sweet, what you did. It still doesn't amount to my commitment and hard work of tracking the sidewalks every day for three months. But nice try anyway." Harry smiled devilishly at Draco. He wasn't really mad at him anymore, since he knew it was partially his own fault for being ignorant, but still felt he was more invested in whatever they had between them.

"Oh, really? Well if you hadn't ended our conversation so abruptly in the first place, there would be no need for all of this searching, would there? And after that, if you had only bothered to pick up the newspaper, or at least look at someone else who was holding it in front of them, for, I don't know, the whole month of March maybe, then you wouldn't have had to spend your mornings wandering the city. So it's all your own fault, Harry."

"You got front page for a whole _month_?" Harry gaped.

When Draco looked at him sideways and silently conveyed the message that that hadn't been the key point of his sentence, Harry blushed and looked away. He hadn't quite looked at it like that before. But since Draco put it that way, he couldn't help but agree that Draco was not the one at fault here.

xXx

Draco couldn't believe how easy it was. He could keep at this for the whole day. It felt as if he and Harry had always been bickering and it was a usual thing for them. As if they had been doing it for much longer than only one day. Draco loved it. Harry brought out a passion in him that was buried so deep Draco hadn't even known it existed.

He could just...he could just kiss Harry. He was startled by the thought, but even in the dim light that came through the single small window in the cupboard Draco could clearly see the red lips that had entranced him the first time he'd seen Harry. And they were standing so close...all Draco had to do was get a few inches closer...

xXx

Harry started as gentle fingers brushed against his face and his emerald green eyes met grey ones that were dark with an intense emotion. The desire was back in them once more and it held him to the spot as Draco leaned in and pressed soft lips onto his. The warm tingle twisting his stomach into knots and wanting to press his lips back against Draco's reminded Harry of someone he should have been thinking of all along and not just now.

Draco pulled away slightly and Harry was immediately drowned in a sea of guilt. He met Draco's eyes with a lost and confused expression, grabbed the extra sheets he'd come in the cupboard for, and hurried past a dazed Draco into the hallway. He couldn't do this. He had a boyfriend for Goodness sake! He couldn't do that to Anthony. He wasn't going to be that person.

He left the sheets outside Narcissa's room and went downstairs to start directing people towards the garden, and also to put some distance between Draco and himself. He wasn't sure how he felt about the kiss they'd just shared, and it was better if he pushed it out of his mind altogether. Draco would be hurt, but he had already been hurt by Harry before. He would just decide the brunette was too much trouble and leave him alone. Then Harry wouldn't have to go and hurt Anthony.

He thought of the red rose he'd found by his bedside that morning and that steeled his determination further. Draco would just have to back off. He was too late now. There was no place for him in Harry's life. _Not even as friends?_ His mind asked hopefully. Harry threw the thought away and stabbed it all over. Especially not as friends. Constant dealing with Draco would only confuse his head further and Harry had already decided to be committed to Anthony.

**The timeline: **One week after Harry meets Draco, he tells Ron and Hermione about it. The chapter starts three months after Harry and Draco's first meeting. Harry meets Anthony two weeks after that, and the last break is five months after Harry and Draco's first meeting when Harry and Anthony have been dating for a month and a half! I hope that makes sense.

Please review :) it motivates me to write better and update faster. And since the chapters have not been written yet, your review could influence my next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's notes: **This is going to be a short chapter. There's a lot of angst and hurt. I was feeling rather down when I wrote it. As a result, Draco and Harry's relationship is affected badly. Sorry, I guess. There's some Harry/Anthony slash in this though. I know it's not the same as the delicious Harry/Draco, but I just had to do it.

This chapter may be a bit overly melodramatic for some of you. You can skip the drama if you like; I won't blame you for it, promise.

Draco's single by the way, if you were wondering. I don't like it when someone cheats on someone else...even if it's "business." If Draco was with someone, I wouldn't have him pursuing Harry.

**Chapter 3:**

Draco stood in the cabinet, feeling oddly hollow and numb as he watched a panicked Harry rush by him into the hallway. He heard the soft click of the door as it swung itself shut behind him. Slowly, feelings rushed back and chased the numbness away, as the realization that Harry had rejected him crushed him with its intensity. He had seen the denial and regret written plain as day on Harry's expression. Especially his eyes. Those closed off and distant eyes as they shut him out in the cold. And as if the emotional distance wasn't enough, Harry had felt the need to put physical distance between them as well.

Draco felt as if his whole life was this huge heavy load of bricks arranged carefully into a wall that was held up by sheer determination and strength on his part. And now he was watching it tumble down. All his life, he had worked so hard. He'd done everything that had been expected of him as the Malfoy heir. As a high society man was expected to live and behave. Now his whole life was shattering to pieces while all he could do was stand and watch.

It soon became apparent that even standing was too much. He slid to the floor, for once not caring about the dust that would cling to his expensive designer jeans. Who cared about appearances when his father was in jail for fraud, his mother in a nursing home that was not even up to their standards, and now...now Harry had turned his back on him as well. His determination of finding the brunette and making Harry fall in love with him for the last five months crashed to pieces. He was just so tired. So tired of failing all the time. He couldn't take it anymore. This feeling of helplessness did not become him.

Nevertheless, Draco spent a long time sitting on the floor of the cupboard in which he had confessed something great to Harry and had been royally rejected, thinking of nothing and just staring at the piles of towels and bottles on the shelves.

xXx

When the afternoon had passed, Harry gently gathered everyone back inside and took a deep breath. In the hour that he had had time to think, he'd finally decided on the right course of action: he'd decided to take a holiday from his job. He cringed. It was a cowardly way out. But if he wanted to make it work with Anthony, he shouldn't be around Draco. He laughed bitterly. For months, he'd been depressed and had wanted desperately to find the aforementioned blond. Now all he wanted was to get as far away from him as possible. How had that happened in the space of two hours? Harry had no clue. He just knew that he couldn't let Anthony go. Not like this. It wasn't fair. He wouldn't want to be dumped like that, so he wasn't going to do it to someone else. He would stay away from the nursing home, try being with Anthony, and then when he was sure he only wanted Anthony in his life, he would come back to his job.

He was going to miss Saint Mungo's, he knew. But the only way he could think of to save his new found relationship with Anthony was to separate his life from Draco's for a while. The blond would only confuse his resolve and try to break their relationship and that would hurt all of them in the end.

Yes, he was going to leave Saint Mungo's for now.

He smiled to himself, but the smile was without humour. If only his past lovers had known that all they had to do to get Harry to leave his job would be to start working there themselves.

xXx

A soft echo of a bell rang hollow in Draco's ears. His mind only registered the sound after a couple of minutes, as it had needed time to catch up with reality. He blinked slowly. He had been dozing off on the floor of the dark cupboard. He frowned, getting up and trying to beat the dust out of his clothes. Remembering Narcissa and dinner, he rushed out of the cupboard and trailed down the stairs. He thought he could remember where the dining hall was and headed in its general direction.

After wandering around for a while, he heard the chatter travelling to him from a room to his right and sighed in relief when he caught sight of Narcissa. She was sitting beside a gentle and wise looking woman with pure white hair all around her, smiling politely at her as she chatted softly. He saw Harry sitting at the nurses' table, looking at his plate with unseeing eyes. He decided to ignore him and the stinging feeling in his chest for now and went to sit on the other side of Narcissa. He didn't care if he wasn't allowed to sit with her, but since no one came to bother him about it anyway, he relaxed a bit more and was able to eat a few bites of something that resembled turkey. He couldn't be sure. It was drowned in gravy and mashed potatoes. Narcissa ate littler than he did, but that was nothing new.

The dinner passed in a flash. Draco couldn't help glancing towards Harry's table every now and then, but the brunette never looked up from his untouched food and only shook his head in an answer every now and then. He was curious about what Harry was thinking but was still hurt from their earlier encounter in the cupboard and after making sure Narcissa was comfortable back in her room and warm under her blankets, he kissed her goodnight and went home. His mind was buzzing with scrambled thoughts all the way and he couldn't do anything about that.

There had been something...strange...about dinner. He just couldn't put a finger on it. After going over it for the hundredth time, he finally realized what it was and almost slapped his forehead for not thinking of it straight away, and he would have, if it had not been such an undignified gesture.

Harry had been really down. Really quiet. Even to Draco, who did not really know the man and his usual behaviour, he'd seemed _too _quiet for it to be normal. But all the other nurses had gone on with their chatter around him, none of them really pushing Harry for what was wrong or trying to get him to talk. Draco wondered why Harry didn't have any friends among them. Maybe the wall he'd put around himself wasn't only for Draco. Maybe he kept everyone at a distance. And they all let him. Draco felt his determination to win Harry over snap tightly back in place. He would teach the brunette how to let people in. He would be the first to see the man behind the curtain. And he was already certain that he'd like what he'd see. Draco went to sleep with a smile on his face, pain of being rejected buried deep inside, almost to the point of being forgotten. Almost.

xXx

Harry couldn't go to sleep that night. He'd told everyone he was taking a long holiday and didn't know when he'd be back. He had been expecting more disappointment than he'd gotten, if he were honest. The patients had been a bit sorry to let their favourite musician go, and some of the nurses' had looked slightly down for a short time. But no one had asked him why he wanted to take this holiday, except for Martha, his boss, and she'd only asked him 'cause she'd wanted to know if she would have to find a replacement for him while he was gone.

He realized that he didn't have any real friends in Saint Mungo's. The closest he'd come to feeling affection for any of them was the amusing relationship he shared with Mrs. Wallis. She'd hugged him goodbye, but even she hadn't outright asked him to come back soon or to not leave at all. He could see why that would be, but was hurt by it nonetheless. He had always put a wall around him and had never let anyone in. Except for Ron and Hermione. When it came to them, his walls were non-existent. He tried to tell himself that he was just a private person, but couldn't push the uneasiness away. His mind unhelpfully provided him with images of all the times he'd pushed people away or started avoiding them once they got too close for comfort. Draco, for one. But he didn't want to think about that. He was right to push Draco away, he told himself. He had been right...right?

He bit his lip and rolled on the bed. He pulled back slightly to avoid crushing a soft form under him when Balthazar yelped. He apologized softly and put his arm gently on his dog's soft fur. The Terrier nuzzled its wet nose against his hand and curled further into himself. Harry sometimes envied how easy Balthazar had it all. Life as a dog must be so much simpler. Then he thought of all the unnecessary hardship the dog put himself through and changed his mind. Chasing after spiders and birds and being paranoid about the smallest sounds and foreign smells all the time must be exhausting. But choosing between chasing and not chasing must be loads easier than choosing between Draco and Anthony; or so thought Harry.

He wondered if he could put Draco and Anthony in front of Balthazar and make the dog choose instead of him. He laughed softly. That would be an amusing situation, to say the least.

His mind lingered on Draco, but he had made his decision. He was looking forward to having free time with Anthony. He would go to the library and visit him tomorrow. With that in mind, he finally went to an uneasy sleep, arm still around Balthazar.

xXx

The next day, Draco was stunned when he heard that Harry had taken his leave and no one knew when he'd be back. He didn't know if he wanted to burn the nursery down or go out in the street screaming obscurities at Harry like a mad man. Neither would have helped his current situation however. So, Draco was content with shouting at the new nurse, Nurse Rose, that had been assigned to his mother. He shouted at her all day and ordered her to do a more proper job of taking care of Narcissa every chance he got. By the end of the day he could tell that the nurse was about ready to pull out his fine platinum blonde hair and murder him right there. It gave him some satisfaction to see her suffer. She had no choice but to treat him politely, as he was paying a large sum of money to get his mother the best care Saint Mungo's could offer.

If Harry wasn't here, he would just make the other nurses so miserable that they would have to go beg him to come back and rid themselves of having to deal with the impossible blond.

He was happy with his resolution, but couldn't help pressing Nurse Rose for Harry's address, or at least his number, during days to come. She refused to give it to him, saying it was confidential. It frustrated Draco to no end when a month passed and there was still no sign of Harry.

Narcissa had watched him with concern but hadn't said anything. She knew how he was when he wanted something but couldn't get it. He would try every single method until he got his way. And if he didn't, there would be hell to pay.

So, it was very strange when one day Draco stopped asking about Harry. It was not normal that he was so quiet and that his eyes had lost the shine in them. It was a foreign sight and Narcissa didn't know how to deal with it. She tried to soothe him with her looks of concern and even went as far as holding his hand and telling him stories that had always calmed a younger Draco down quickly as he lost himself in them. Neither method worked now. Draco said he was fine, but there was no emotion in his voice or expression. His hands were cold and although he still showed up every day and talked with Narcissa, he seemed eerily hollow inside.

Narcissa didn't know what to do. She cursed Harry for causing Draco this much distress, but could do little more, and it tore a part of her inside.

xXx

Harry slouched quite comfortably on the brown worn out sofa, resting his head in Anthony's lap. The lean fingers were running through his hair and Harry felt so content that he wanted to purr. A chuckle shook Anthony's delicate features and Harry realized that he had in fact purred out loud without meaning to. Since his head was in Anthony's lap, it shook too, and an amused smile lit up his face at the strange sensation. He lifted his hand from his side and brought it up to Anthony's face. He caressed his cheek lovingly and pulled his face down for a slow and lazy kiss. Anthony moaned into his mouth and pulled Harry up to deepen the kiss.

The pointed cough that came from across the room reminded Harry that they were in Ron and Hermione's house. He pulled away from the delicious kiss unwillingly, turned his head to the side and frowned at Hermione. She kissed Ron in front of him _all the bloody time_. But as he rolled his head to the side to look at her, he felt a bulge in Anthony's pants press against his head and realized that their kiss might have been more passionate than it should have been. He tried to make the inappropriate thoughts that were triggered by Anthony's obvious arousal go away and failed miserably. He groaned and got up, pulling Anthony with him. The suggestive pictures in his head were prompting him to bend Anthony over and fuck him right there, and he didn't think Hermione would be too happy with that image stuck in her head for the rest of her life. It would definitely put a dent in their relationship.

"Tell Ron that I said bye, will you? We've got to run," Harry said hurriedly as he exited the sitting room and grabbed his coat, trying to pull it on while still holding onto Anthony. The darker man tried to mimic his actions, his thoughts following Harry's precisely. He'd barely gotten half of his velvet blue coat on however when Harry pulled him out the door and he only had enough time to slam the door behind him as Hermione's amused laugh followed them outside.

They stumbled their way down the street and to Harry's new apartment, on the thirteenth floor of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, a twenty story building that he'd moved into so he could be closer to Hermione and Ron. That was the reason he'd given everyone, but they all knew he'd done it to discourage himself from going to look for Draco day after day. Harry jerked. He'd avoided thoughts of that certain blonde for almost a month now, ever since he'd stopped going to Saint Mungo's. He almost violently threw all thoughts of Draco away and held Anthony's hand tighter as they entered the building that had an old and classy feel to it, which Harry didn't dream of ever being able to fully appreciate.

While on the lift, Anthony pulled Harry's mouth back to his and started kissing him again, effectively quieting Harry's busy mind. The hunger in their kiss had not lessened in the three months that they had been dating and Anthony was more than happy to renew the fire of their relationship over and over and over again.

They got off the lift, still clinging to each other. Harry finally found his keys and opened the door, somewhat embarrassed at being caught kissing his boyfriend as if there was no tomorrow on the lift by some of the neighbours that had wanted to use said lift, but had decided to take the stairs in the end. However, Harry was more concerned with unbuttoning Anthony's shirt while pushing him against the bedroom door and fumbling around for the knob at the same time to care too much about their low opinions of him. He did register a sleeping Balthazar by the wide window of the sitting room, though.

He threw the successfully unbuttoned shirt on the floor as the door finally opened and ran his hands over the perfect olive skin of Anthony, trailing down his body and pushing his fingers under the waistband of his jeans and then boxers. Anthony pulled Harry closer to him and gave him a long kiss, their tongues tangling together. He walked backwards clumsily and the back of his knee caught on the edge of the bed. He fell on the bed and Harry fell on him, holding his weight and breaking his fall by his hands on the bed. Harry soon forgot all about where they were or why they were as he lost himself in the intense kiss. Anthony's hands that pushed his shirt up and over his head, breaking their kiss for a moment, reminded him of his task of undressing the man under him and he nibbled on the dark blonde's nipple as he reached down to unbutton his faded blue jeans. They were just an unnecessary layer of clothing between them.

He felt Anthony's moan shake his body more than he was able to hear it; he doubted he could hear anything besides his own loud heart beat that filled his ears at the moment. He trailed kisses down Anthony's abdomen and licked down his belly button, making the man arch his back on the bed. He looked up at the dark brown eyes with a playful expression. He took the zipper between his teeth and slowly pulled it down, still looking straight into Anthony's eyes. He watched them darken further with desire and saw his lips move to whisper his name, begging him to take him in, take him in now.

The zipper was finally out of the way and Harry hungrily watched the erect cock of his boyfriend rise. He licked a stripe on it teasingly, loving the resulted gasp and soft tremor that went through Anthony's body. His body was so tuned to Anthony's by now that he couldn't help but respond to the desperate need of the dark blonde. Making sure that Anthony is still watching him, he lowered his head and took him in. He ran his tongue in a circle over the head and smiled triumphantly when Anthony could do little more than grab onto Harry's hair and moan louder. He started moving his head up and down in a torturously slow speed. Maintaining that rhythm, he felt himself harden even further as the expression on Anthony's face twisted into a mixture of pleasure and pain. He reached higher and held onto Anthony's nipples while he started moving his head faster, wanting to bring the man to his completion as intensely as possible.

He was filled with an immense amount of pleasure as Anthony's fingers tightened in his hair and he went rigid, overcome by his orgasm. He chocked Harry's name and Harry felt the thick liquid explode into his mouth. He did his best to swallow. It was still new to him, but he was used to the salty thick feeling of it by now. He didn't think he'd ever forget what Anthony tasted like.

The olive skin of his boyfriend seemed even darker in the shadows created by the curtain in the bedroom and Harry marvelled at the beauty of it. He was painfully aware of his own erection, and tried his best not to rub himself off on the rough texture of the sheets covering the bed. He let himself be pulled up instead, sprawling on the muscled figure under him and placing a kiss on the sculpted mouth, pressing his erection against Anthony's thigh.

"God, I love you Harry. You know that, right?" Anthony whispered against his lips, reaching down to take Harry in his hands.

"Mmm," was all that Harry could manage as he sighed with relief. He wanted to tell the dark blonde that he loved him too, but the words got lost at the back of his mind as Anthony lowered himself and placed a warm tongue on the sensitive slit of his throbbing cock. He hummed softly and opened his legs slightly; a reflex. He felt Anthony chuckle at his reaction and the sensational feeling of his breath blowing against Harry's flesh travelled through him, making him moan and beg Anthony for more. Anthony teased his entrance with a finger and took him back in his mouth.

Harry thought he was going to explode. Surely no one could feel this much and not go crazy? He panted, moaned and whispered Anthony's name over and over again until he lost thread of what he was saying. All he knew was that he was writhing under the dark blonde's expert tongue, and all he could do was clutch at the sheets as the intense emotions finally pushed him against the edge and he came in Anthony's mouth, gasping for breath.

He was aware of Anthony coming up and lying next to him. He kissed Harry softly and wound his hands around the warm torso, nuzzling his head against his boyfriend's neck.

"Love you, too." Harry managed to whisper before he fell asleep with the trail of a satisfied smile on his lips.

_Review! I'd love to know what you thought of that :) personally, I love Harry/Anthony, but that's probably just me._


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes:** I feel so bad. I feel horrible. Why did I that to Draco? This chapter we'll stick with Draco. And we'll crush Anthony. How does that sound? Divine, I would imagine.

We'll start with Harry and a confusing dream first though. And then there's a one month break. Many things happen during that time between Harry and Anthony that won't be revealed until much, much later. Patience is a virtue.

There's sadly no Balthazar in this one, for those of you who love him like I do. He'll be there in the next chapter though, promise.

Thanks for the reviews!

**Chapter 4:**

Harry wiggled his toes in the sand, marvelling in the warm feeling spreading through him. The well-being he felt was only magnified by the warm rays of the sun that bathed him lovingly. He felt a strong but gentle hand squeeze his own smaller and rougher one and tall fingers wove themselves through his.

Smiling widely, his eyes travelled up the hand and looked into the face of the person they belonged to. For a millisecond, he felt shock at seeing warm grey eyes smiling into his. He had expected dark brown ones for some reason that he couldn't remember now. He pushed the unsettling thought away and leaned to his right to kiss Draco. The kiss was a bit awkward, as Harry couldn't seem to stop smiling and he tried to kiss Draco while still smiling widely.

Draco didn't seem to mind. In fact, he twisted their bodies so the kiss could deepen and his free hand came up to weave itself through Harry's messy brown hair. Harry, feeling rather mischievous and uncharacteristically brave, suddenly broke the kiss and pushed a startled Draco into the cold water. He realized too late that Draco was still clinging onto his right hand and he stumbled over and fell into the water after Draco. The shock of the cold water that was a great contrast to the warm summer heat of the weather outside met him and knocked the breath out of him.

Harry's body jerked on the mattress and he woke up; not remembering a single detail of what he had been dreaming of. He saw concerned brown eyes above him and felt the dark blonde curls brush against his forehead.

"You okay?" Anthony breathed against Harry's lips.

Harry felt uneasy and wanted to push him off, but wasn't sure why. He had been having strange dreams for months now, but he could never remember what they were exactly about after he woke up. He just always felt more distant from Anthony afterwards. A cold shower and some coffee always helped wake him up. After that, some time to remind himself of the reality and his love for Anthony would be enough to push the lingering uneasiness away and so he never thought too much of it.

He could tell that Anthony saw the distance he put between them after some of his more intense dreams, ones he still had no memory of but felt considerably more shaken after he woke up from, and he could feel Anthony hurt when that happened. But he couldn't help it. He just hoped they would either stop soon or reveal themselves to his conscious mind.

He nodded a reassurance to Anthony, slipped out of the bed from under him as subtly as he could, and headed towards the shower. He heard a barely audible sigh trail after him through the room.

xXx

Draco grabbed the bouquet of gerbera daisies and started walking towards Saint Mungo's. He looked down at his shoes scraping against the small stones. A lesser part of him still hoped to see Harry back in his faded blue scrubs standing in Narcissa's room or by the piano in the entertainment corner once more. Every day that he visited his mother, his eyes would search for those emerald green gems for a few seconds before they settled back on Narcissa's grey eyes. He saw the apprehension in them, but she had never called him out on the act and he was grateful for it. He'd given up on finding Harry months ago. He'd just never stopped _looking _for him, regardless.

A slight twitch played along the corners of his lips. Astoria would be bringing Scorpius to visit Narcissa and him in St. Mungo's today. Although he wasn't thrilled at the idea of seeing her, she was still the mother of his son. She'd won custody of Scorpius after their separation, but Draco still visited him frequently. He loved his son. Be that as it may, right now with Lucius gone and all of the businesses falling to him as well as spending every spare minute with Narcissa, he didn't have the time to take proper care of Scorpius himself and so the parent ship had fallen to Astoria for now. After...he swallowed hard, troubled by even the mere thought of the time when Narcissa would be gone; afterwards, he would fight once more for Scorpius, and be sure to win this time.

He went inside a very crowded chocolate shop that was 'round the corner from St. Mungo's to get some hazelnut chocolate for Scorpius. It wasn't that he'd forgotten and had to do it last minute. He'd wanted to get the chocolate from this exact shop.

One day a couple of weeks ago, Narcissa had woken up craving chocolate. Draco, not wanting to make her wait for too long, due to being already guilt ridden for admitting her to a nursing home instead of taking care of her himself, had rushed to the closest chocolate shop he'd laid eyes on. The shop, Chocolate Factory, had overwhelmed all of his senses at once. The smell of vanilla, pepper, strawberry and some other fruits that were not as easily distinguishable, plus all of the shiny colours of wrappers and packs of chocolate had greeted him the moment he'd stepped inside. It instantly made him feel at home and tempted him to move Narcissa's bed here instead and buy the whole shop.

Apparently it was the only branch the shop had opened, but it was huge enough to make up for it. It had rows and rows of chocolate, all on the sides downstairs and upstairs. In the middle, there was a large glass room that contained huge but magnificently detailed statues of famous people, cute animals and significant buildings such as pyramids and the Eifel tower. They were all made out of different coloured chocolate that made Draco's eyes widen with wonder and his mouth water at the prospect of eating all that chocolate every single time he saw them. He always wondered how they had made such large and detailed duplicates and then transferred them here without damaging or melting the chocolate on the way.

He now passed by all of this in a daze, stopped by the third row down on the right corner and grabbed a jar of sphere shaped hazelnut chocolate that had a big red ribbon on the top. He paid for it hurriedly, giving the owner a warm smile and rushing out the door as he set the bell on top of it tingling gently after him.

Later on, when he entered Narcissa's room and saw a man with faded blue scrubs and very messy dark hair crouching on the floor beside a small blonde boy that was looking at him in amazement and munching on what looked like a very large and multicoloured lollipop, he wished that he had skipped getting flowers and some chocolate and had come straight to St. Mungo's instead.

xXx

"Harry?" He managed to croak out. If Scorpius hadn't run to his side to hug him tightly and steal his attention, Draco doubted he would have ever looked away from Harry. That was only partly because he was scared that the brunette would disappear the moment he cast his eyes elsewhere. For the most part, his eyes had been glued to the slim form in front of him because Harry looked _horrible. _He looked as if he hadn't gotten an hour of sound sleep for weeks; if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by. His hair was more dishevelled than ever and his clothes looked too big on him, as if he hadn't had a proper meal for days.

Draco was distracted by the small form hugging his knees however and he felt himself smile when he saw that Scorpius had grown even taller since Draco had last seen him, and that was only a week ago. The boy looked up at him with grey eyes that duplicated his own down to the exact shade and offered him a toothy smile. Draco cringed at the sight in front of him. Scorpius's teeth were each a colour of the rainbow. Some were blue, some green, red, orange or violet. Most had a yellow residue on them as well and the sickening sight made Draco want to snatch the unhealthy lolly out of his hands and give the boy a tooth brush and send him to the bathroom straight away.

He looked away from Scorpius and studied Harry for another moment, nodded his hello at Narcissa and tried to mostly ignore the person standing by the window. He untangled Scorpius's hands from around his knees and walked slowly to Narcissa's bedside table to place the daisies in the empty vase there. He turned around, all the while avoiding Harry and Astoria's eyes. That only brought him back to Scorpius and his open mouthed smile that had Draco's head reeling again.

Scorpius was unaware of what was going on in his father's head however and he kept on smiling widely, showing Draco that even his tongue was blue when he started talking.

"Look dad! That nice nurse, Nurse Hawwy, gave me a big candy!" Scorpius tried to say around his lolly without taking it out of his mouth.

Draco was caught between taking the lolly and throwing it out the window and slapping Harry with it and somehow managed to settle down on crushing Harry under his glare instead. Harry looked confused and his smile died on his face. He probably thought he was doing something _nice._ Draco snorted.

"Hmm. I can see that. I think that's enough for now, Scorpius. It's quite a big lolly and if you finish it now you won't have any appetite left for lunch." Draco muttered disdainfully.

Scorpius looked just about ready to cry and Draco bit his lip. He was always too soft when it came to Scorpius and it made him wonder what Lucius would say if he saw how he was raising his son. Half-raising his son. He cringed. The other half, the one to blame for all the undignified action, was raised by Astoria. A Malfoy certainly didn't go around talking to people with teeth so dirty. He couldn't have that.

A lean form detached itself from the shadows, frowning at Draco while at the same time somehow managing to offer Scorpius an encouraging smile.

"You can have the lolly, Scorpius. It's still a long time 'till lunch," The woman with golden hair that easily reached down to the middle of her back said defiantly, meeting Draco's challenging gaze straight on.

Astoria jerked her chin forwards, daring him to disagree with the way she saw fit to raise her son. _Their_ son, Draco reminded himself. He still had a say in this.

He did, didn't he? He wasn't really sure at the moment. But Malfoy's didn't back down that easily. His eyes widened with mock innocence.

"But I got you _all _this hazelnut chocolate, Scorpius dear. Are you sure you want them to go to waste? You know you can't have _both _the lolly AND the chocolate. Don't you want the nice chocolate I got _all_ for you? It even has a nice big red bow," Draco knew he was over-selling it, but Scorpius was only four and he knew he could get away with something so obvious for now. Appealing to his son with his favourite snack packed with his favourite coloured bow was bound to pay off, and Scorpius hesitated for only a moment, his eyes darting from the half faded colours of the lolly to the round pieces of chocolate filling the jar that Draco was practically dangling in front of his face, before he hastily passed the forgotten lolly to Draco and grabbed the jar of chocolate, going to sit cross legged on the sofa to open it carefully.

An irritated sound escaped from Astoria as she slumped back against the wall she was leaning on. Draco's smile of triumph lit up his face. Without thinking, he turned and met Harry's amused eyes, still smiling brightly. Green eyes, the brightness in them returned momentarily, latched on to grey. After a few minutes, they both looked away, their faces contorted back into emotionless masks. Draco wasn't ready to forgive and forget just yet. Maybe he never would. Trying to hold onto Harry had proven to be too painful. He wasn't a sadist, after all. He bitterly threw the lolly into the trash can and heard at its foreboding hollow _dang._

Why was the brunette here anyway? If he had been away on a _holiday_, he shouldn't be looking half dead now. Why had he really gone away?

Draco put a stop to his musings. He told himself he didn't want to know.

But his eyes disobediently turned back to Harry and watched him step closer to Narcissa's bed and ask her how she was feeling today.

Narcissa was answering the question coldly. Draco knew she felt Harry had hurt him and wouldn't warm up to him no matter how hard Harry tried. He held onto Narcissa's resolve and went to sit by Scorpius, holding the jar as Scorpius stuck out his tongue and frowned in concentration, trying to undo the bow without tearing anything.

Draco was showing Scorpius which string he had to pull to easily undo the knot when he felt cold air pass by him as Harry rushed by the sofa and went out the door. He felt Harry's eyes on him before he left, but kept his head down and ignored him as best as he could. He was going to ignore Harry. What was the point of talking to him? He would just push Draco away again.

Instead, he took Scorpius with him down to the garden and they sat on the bench that was situated in front of the fountain and surrounded by all the 'pwetty flowews,' as Scorpius so eloquently put it. The fountain was made of a stone that had shapes of baby angels on it that were blowing some sort of horn. Scorpius had sometimes tried to imitate them and Draco had been too amused to stop him from acting that way in public. After all, no one was really here to see them anyway. Draco wanted Scorpius to have a freer and easier childhood than the one he'd had, but he wasn't set on disregarding all the manners, especially the most basic ones that all children were surely expected to learn, such as not speaking out of turn or not running in the house, the way that Astoria did. She wanted her son to be brought up without the 'silly' rules and grow up in a loving environment. Draco assured her that he would be showered with love while growing up as a well-behaved young man, but she was against it all and after trying to negotiate around it with Draco for two years, she had decided that taking Scorpius and raising him without a father would be less harmful than drilling his young brain with all of the unnecessary Malfoy manners. That's what she had told him when he'd stared up at her from the divorce papers she'd thrown on his desk where he was working.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw black worn-out sneakers coming close and then skirting back again a few times. He paid it no attention. Scorpius was lost in his own world as he tried to tell Draco about his week with a mouth full of chocolate as Draco desperately tried to clean his face with a napkin and reminded him not to talk with his mouth full, so he didn't see nor heard Harry coming close and drifting away again, and so Draco was content with ignoring the brunette for as long as he could.

He didn't know why Harry couldn't just come forward and say what he so obviously wanted to say, but he sure as hell wasn't going to make the task easier for him. The wording of that phrase shocked him, but he couldn't be bothered. He'd realized that Harry could anger him with a passion in a way that no one had ever been able to shake his cold persona before. There was nothing he could do about it now, except try as hard as he could to irritate the brunette in return.

After Scorpius had gone through every second of every day of his previous week that Draco had missed out on and informed him of all the significant things that had happened to him, which obviously included even stating the exact amount of milk he'd had at breakfast each day, it was lunch time. Scorpius hadn't yet finished his jar of chocolate and as Draco had predicted but allowed nonetheless, he was full and had no appetite for lunch.

And so it was because of that when instead of heading to the dining hall, Draco took Scorpius back to Narcissa's room where the small boy stretched out on the sofa, putting his head on Draco's lap and allowing him to play with his soft hair. Asking for a story, he slowly started to calm down enough for a nap. Draco gently moved his hands through soft blonde hair that were a few shades darker than his own and started telling the boy of an adventurous story of a trio, two boys and a girl, going through many challenges and overcoming difficulties to save lives and stop disasters from happening.

Scorpius would interrupt every now and then, adding his own perspective on the personalities of the brave hero and the red haired sidekick that ate too much and the brown haired girl that had high reasoning abilities for her young age. Since Draco was making up the story as he went, he would twist it around what Scorpius would ask of him, sometimes giggling at his son's bizarre requests. Draco and Scorpius presented the trio with a well thought out challenge that had a series of levels. First, they were faced with a three headed dog that was named Fluffy. Fluffy, of all the names. Draco chuckled to himself. He did love Scorpius and his running imagination, but really?

As Draco was explaining the gallant way the three kids were participating in a very dangerous giant chess game, Scorpius's eyes closed one last time and didn't open again. His breathing that had been steady and heavy for a while now evened out more and his hand that was clutching Draco's shirt loosened a fraction.

A shadow moved by the door and Draco became aware that Astoria had been watching them.

"How long have you been standing there?" Draco whispered to the air in front of him, careful not to wake Scorpius. It was hard work, putting the boy to sleep.

Astoria moved inside the room and came to stand on Draco's side.

"Aren't you hungry? I can look over him. You go eat something," Astoria whispered back softly, dodging Draco's question.

"Treating each other civilly now, are we?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "It's fine. If I move now, he'll wake."

Astoria flipped her long hair back, disdain clear in her eyes.

"No. When you're around he sleeps better. Deeper. He doesn't wake as easily. You can move."

Draco was secretly pleased by the confirmation of his earlier suspicions, but didn't let it show.

"Nevertheless, I'm comfortable. You need not worry yourself with my welfare. I assure you I won't let myself starve to death, much as you might wish it."

"Very well. I will be downstairs with Narcissa if you need me."

She turned and swiftly walked out the door, gently pulling the door almost shut after her, not even bothering to deny Draco's accusation.

Draco didn't let her bother him. He let his fingers run through Scorpius's hair, looking out the window and at the shapes the white clouds made in the sky. He remembered playing a similar game as a child and he lost himself in the old pattern quickly.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when the door creaked open slowly and a head with dark hair popped inside, peering around.

Harry was biting his lip as Draco slowly turned around to look at him, disinterest written clearly on his features.

"Yes?" He asked softly, wanting to remind Harry to keep his voice low as to not disturb Scorpius. Definitely not so that he could start the conversation before the brunette lost his confidence and decided he didn't want to say whatever it was that was eating him alive, he told himself.

"Um. Hi." Harry managed to blurt out before his eyes went wide. Draco noted that he was still holding the door between himself and Draco as to keep his escape route open.

"Hello." Draco tried to hold Harry's eyes and drag the conversation out of him. He was tired of playing games. He wanted to know why Harry had been gone for so long, and he wanted to know it _now._

Harry finally stepped inside and took a deep breath, walking closer to Draco and glancing down at Scorpius. Seeing his expression soften, Draco felt some of his own irritation slip away. He scowled at nothing. Must Scorpius soften his arguments with other people as well? Wasn't being the only exception towards Draco's strict rules enough for him?

Apparently not, Draco decided. Harry was playing his hand well. He had to give the man that much. _But nothing more_, he assured himself.

"He's a great kid. I didn't know you had a kid. I didn't even know you were married," Harry abused his lip with his teeth again, coming to an abrupt stop as he realized that was not the way he had meant for the conversation to go.

He felt sorry for him as he realized Harry would never be half as manipulative as Draco was in his sleep. It must be so dull, being so, so, _ordinary._

"Divorced," Draco lifted his bare left hand for inspection. The golden ring that had resided there was long gone, shoved into a drawer somewhere.

Draco felt amused when he saw all the tension in Harry's muscles leave his body. _That _was what had had him so worked up? Draco wanted to laugh out loud, and he would have if he wasn't absolutely sure that it would wake Scorpius. As it was, he just gave the brunette an amused smile.

"Scared of being caught in a love triangle?"

Harry stood up straight, all the tension back in his body. Draco's smile widened. It was so easy to wound Harry up. His smile disappeared as a sense of Déjà vu hit him. Hadn't that been along the lines he'd been thinking when they were in that cupboard? That he could get used to it easily? He closed of his train of thought and wore his expressionless mask once more. He would not let himself be hurt like that again. Playing with fire, he reminded himself. He didn't need the pain that would surely be just on the edge of being self-inflicted if he didn't put a stop to it now.

"Is there anything you wanted?" Draco was proud of the cold-cut edge of his voice as he saw Harry flinch with the change of tone.

"Yeah, erm. Just wanted to say that I'm back now. And that I'm not leaving again, so. I asked Narcissa if she wanted me to be her nurse again, and she told me I'd have to ask you about that. So, here I am." Harry looked at Draco with eyes so open and vulnerable that Draco could already taste the delicious pain he could so easily inflict in them by saying a simple two-lettered word.

_No. No no no, _his mind whispered viciously. But Draco had to weigh it out. He tapped a finger thoughtfully on his chin, drawing it out. He could see Harry become impatient and enjoyed the power that was handed to him to crush the brunette's hopes so easily.

"Why exactly do you want to be her nurse again? She's already used to that one, what's-her-name, that's been _continuously _serving her for two months now." Draco's eyes accused Harry with their intensity and Harry caught on to the pointed words, squirming in place.

"Well, honestly, I felt bad about leaving her like that and now that I'm back I want to try and make up for it." Harry averted his eyes at the last minute.

God, the man was such an awful liar. Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"That's not it at all. Spill it," Draco whispered harshly. He could tell that somehow his lowered voice had done more to guilt Harry into giving an honest answer than shouting would have.

"Well. Uh. All the nurses, you know, they'll kill me if they find out I told you, but, they can't." Harry mumbled incoherently.

"What? Was I supposed to understand that?" Draco wanted to shake Harry to get some straight answers. He was now thankful for Scorpius being situated between them and stopping him from such vile actions.

"They just can't take your shouting and unrealistic expectations! They don't like being ordered around like this all the time!" Harry's tone turned from accusatory to a genuinely amused one. "They begged me once I came back. They actually got on their knees and begged, Draco."

"What, am I supposed to be impressed by that? Impressed by you telling me you only want to be around me because others _begged_ you to do so?"

"Oh, come off it, Draco," Harry raised his eyes from his feet and looked Draco in the eyes. "Not everything is about you all the time, you know. I wasn't thinking of you. I was thinking of my actual patient, Narcissa. You know, the one that was put in my hands? Not the person that put her in my hands?"

Draco stiffened. So that's the way Harry wanted to play it? Fine. Two could play at this game.

"Oh, yeah? And you leaving, that was about Narcissa too? It had nothing to do with the kiss in the cupboard? It had absolutely nothing to do with me?" Harry dropped his eyes back to his feet and Draco grabbed the opportunity. "Okay, here's how it is. You'll tell me what made you leave so suddenly, why you stayed away for so long and how come you're back now, looking dead on your feet. If I decide that that's reason solid enough to reassure me you won't leave again in less than a week and put my mother through another change of routine, then I'll let you be her nurse again. It sounds like a good deal, Harry. It's the best you're going to get, since I'm feeling awfully gracious today."

Harry turned sharply and looked up. Draco met his gaze calmly. It was up to Harry now. He was not expecting the brunette to answer him honestly and completely, but then again, Harry was a bit unpredictable, or so was the little bit of him that Draco had seen so far. Had Draco really called him ordinary before? He took it back now. The man was anything but. He could be manipulative too, if he so desired.

"I left because I had a boyfriend, Draco. Anthony. He was gorgeous and he loved me and I was happy with him. And then you came out of nowhere and kissed me in a cupboard of all places, and expected me to drop everything for you and change my whole life. You expected me to just fall in love with you and worship you, don't try and deny it. I saw your 'Grand Plan of the Future' playing out in your head. It was all written out on your face and smug expression.

"So I left, because I didn't want to cheat on someone, the way I thought you were doing when I saw your wife this morning. Ex-wife, I suppose," Harry paused to catch his breath and straighten out his thoughts. "And then everything was fine until I woke up one day and Anthony was just gone, and I was trying to move on from that for a couple of weeks 'till Hermione decided that all this moping around wasn't helping me one bit and threw me out of _my own house _and told me to suck it up and go do something productive with my time. So don't you tell me about having to evaluate my life and decisions, Draco. I've had a rough month and if I come and ask you to please take it easier on the nurses or let me back on Narcissa's care, you will say 'yes Harry, we'd be delighted to have you back.'"

Harry stepped back, half glaring and half breathless, meeting Draco's gaze full on. Draco was slightly dazed, and so he believed he was not to be held accountable for his next words.

"Yes. Yes, Harry, we'd be delighted to have you back," He echoed hollowly, still not sure what was going on around him. He just knew that Harry was here and that he was lost in those green bottomless eyes that had a delicious passion lit in them that Draco had never seen there before and that the only thing he wanted was to stay right there undisturbed forever.

_Review? Your reviews shape the story, since I don't have the chapters written out yet. Doesn't that intrigue you to review even more? YES. Tell me what you think. Tell me what you want._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

As the days passed by, the Draco and Harry fell into a sort of routine. Draco would sit on Narcissa's sofa in the morning, doing paper work and Harry would enter every now and then; taking Narcissa's dirty laundry or changing the flower's water. He and Draco would occasionally exchange a few words. But only light chatter. Neither yet wanted to tackle the harder topics. They could hardly ignore them forever, though. No, definitely impossible to ignore it. It was there nudging the back of their minds every time startling green eyes glanced up to find grey ones regarding him steadily. It pushed them to notice the piece of unresolved tension whenever they realized they were the only two people in a closed space.

Although Draco was more than happy to acknowledge the obviously uncomfortable silence they sometimes fell into, he could easily tell that the brunette was not yet ready for the long overdue talk and didn't want to push him too hard. He was afraid of what would happen if he pushed too hard. There were still days that Draco sat on the edge of the sofa –it had by now shaped against Draco's form due to being occupied by him most mornings and nights as he watched his mother sleep or chatted with her softly– and his eyes would be fastened on to the clock on the wall next to the door. He would be found in that position if eight o'clock came to pass without a certain brunette entering the doorway, bearing coffee. A rustling of feet and hurried footsteps outside the door would remind the blond to relax and breathe properly; reassuring him that Harry had not disappeared from his life again. He would then hear the footsteps come to a stop just behind Narcissa's closed door and knew beyond a doubt that Harry was composing himself just as Draco was.

However relaxed and composed they both believed themselves to be, on these particular mornings that the brunette was more than just fashionably late –if one was even able to _be _fashionably late to a nursing home, Draco mused– Harry would open the door, a bit breathless. Green eyes would latch onto grey and for a few moments all barriers were lowered. Worry and distress would clearly shine through and leak out of their locked gaze. Warm waves of reassurance would be sent to the other as Draco appeared unharmed and very much the same and Harry was clearly still very much there and not running away all the way to the other side of the world out of his reach. Draco bit his lip. After such an intense start to their day, they would still dismiss the tension and raise their barriers back up again, pretending that they hadn't been worried sick about the other. They both knew they had to address the issue soon. Draco was sure that all of this unresolved tension wasn't helping anybody.

A soft knock came at the door and Draco looked up as Harry came in. they exchanged a small smile and a nod of the head. Harry moved over to Narcissa's bed, gently calling her name and touching her shoulder. She mumbled sleepily and rolled over, refusing to wake up.

Draco shuddered to remember how long it had taken his mother to warm up to the brunette. Of course, after Draco's somewhat reluctant acceptance of Harry, which only entailed acknowledging the brunette's existence –after getting nowhere with steadily ignoring him for a few days, mind you– Narcissa had finally started responding to Harry. After that, she'd warmed up to him like she hadn't with Nurse Rose or in fact even Draco.

He tried to stifle the jealousy that he still felt at that. After all, he of all people knew better than to undermine Harry's ability to coax anyone with his charm. He had been on the receiving end of it himself once, and however short their first encounter on a busy sidewalk may have been, Harry had still been able to worm his way in Draco's head enough for the blond to be searching after him relentlessly for more than five months.

Draco knew that now the brunette no longer was trying to have that effect on him however. He was slightly disappointed by that fact. Sometimes Harry seemed so closed off to him that the blond wanted nothing more than to hold onto those broad shoulders and shake them hard until Harry let the tension go and opened up to him about whatever it was that was really bothering him. He believed that it had something to do with Harry's confession a couple of weeks ago; the stream of words that he'd handed Draco to pressure him into accepting his return to St. Mungo's and Narcissa's care. That was also the only honest moments they'd share and so the blond was slightly impatient to get Harry to talk about his life again and explain his erratic behaviour further. However, sensing that it must be a sensitive subject for the brunette, he was waiting for Harry to come to him on his own.

"Narcissa, wake up! It's time to wayyyyyke uppppp," Harry murmured softly, dragging Draco back to the here and now. He had his back to Draco but he still could feel the brunette's wariness from the way he was holding himself as he leaned over Narcissa.

Feeling eyes on his back and getting nowhere with Narcissa, Harry turned around and met those warm grey eyes that he'd once found fascinating to lose himself in. they were trained on him and had a tangle of emotions running through them, a sharp contrast to the usual blank mask they were put under. Watching Draco watch him, Harry became even more aware of the dark circles that he felt had by now etched themselves permanently under his eyes. He let his eyelids droop further, trying to cover them with his long lashes. After only receiving a disapproving look that told him Draco knew exactly what he was trying to do, he gave up and went to grab the cup of coffee he'd left half full on the table before, sinking on the sofa beside the concerned blond.

"Late night?" Draco joked.

Harry didn't reply. They both knew that that was far from the truth. His nightmares and restless nights were obvious enough that he hadn't even tried to hide them from Draco.

He slowly sipped his coffee and cringed at the cold tasteless liquid that travelled down his throat. The rush of caffeine was almost immediate and had his senses tingling in no time.

"We need a coffee maker up here. Then we'd never run out of hot coffee," Draco mumbled for what seemed to be the thousandth time; after correctly reading Harry's reaction.

"There's one down at the nurses' station," Harry replied, his answer more automatic and hollow than Draco would have liked it to be. "But I don't spend much time in there."

Draco frowned. He'd wonder about that, lots of times, actually.

"And exactly why is that? I know that my company is irresistible and all," He smirked at that, "But how come you don't spend any time with the other nurses? Don't you have any friends?"

"I have _many_ friends, I'll have you know!" Harry tried to argue back, but the caffeine hadn't really been all that effective and so he lacked the energy to properly back up his argument.

Draco didn't even bother to say anything. He just raised an eyebrow. Harry sighed and took another sip of the cold concoction in his hands to buy himself some time to gather his messy thoughts enough to produce a half sensible and decent answer instead of just blindly denying whatever Draco threw at him. From the time he'd spent arguing with the blond git over the best way of going about Narcissa's day and care, he'd learned that reasoning with the prat and handing him some acceptable logic to his decisions seemed to work best instead of just using his authority over the matter or shutting him out of the decision making process.

He'd be worried that he knew the blonde's thinking process so well if he hadn't seen Draco show the same intuition towards Harry's reactions and feelings. They just seemed tuned in to each other. Harry shuddered. The closeness sometimes got him claustrophobic. At times, he wasn't even sure if they were friends. They never saw each other outside of the nursing home, but the friendly atmosphere and easy flow of light chatter between them were all pointing towards an easy friendship.

He pushed the thoughts intrigued by Draco's earlier question away and assembled his thoughts. He then tried to turn them into a coherent sentence. Had thinking before speaking always been this difficult a process? He decided not. His mind was just exceptionally groggy with the lack of sleep. He sipped on his coffee one extra time for good measure before turning to a patiently waiting Draco with his answer.

"I'm just not...great at making new friends, Draco. I like my privacy. I do have friends, but just not ones that work here. I've realized that after I tell people I'm gay, they start treating me differently. So I would rather keep my distance, thanks. Even if I don't tell them about it or they don't figure it out on their own, there is always something else, some extra step I have to take, some extra piece of me I have to give away. I have to act the way they expect me to, and friends always try to interfere in your life and at least partially change who you are. Sometimes that change is for the better, true," Harry added as Draco opened his mouth to object and then continued. "But I don't want to change. I like my life the way it is. I like the people who are already in it. I don't need any extra friends."

"That's absurd. You don't have to get that close to them. They're your colleagues. Just joking around and talking about the weather would suffice as being friends. You don't need to get to know them too intimately, as you'd only be seeing them during work. You can keep your private life separate from that."

"See what I mean? You're trying to change me. Trying to tell me how to better live my own life. I just can't take that. I need to control my life. I will live it the way I want to. And if it means only having a few close friends, that's just who I am. I don't like socializing. You've surely realized that by now," Harry pointedly looked at Draco.

Understanding lit Draco's eyes and then sympathy took its place. Harry cringed, getting up and throwing the cup of the remainder of his cold coffee in the bin. He hated wasting the much-needed caffeine, but there was a limit to how much of its horrible cold taste he could take. But that was only part of the reason he'd gotten up. He also felt the need to stand up and distance himself from Draco. Somehow, after just muttering the few sentences to the blond, he felt vulnerable and uncomfortable; the realization at last dawning on him that Draco knew far too much about his life and it put them on unequal grounds since he barely knew anything about Draco.

His mind helpfully reminded him of the elegant way he moved and the brightness in his eyes the rare times that he laughed. He knew Draco preferred sea food to any other meat and that his favourite thing to have in the morning was plain pancakes, odd as it may be. He knew he liked his coffee black and that listening to Narcissa's deep breaths as she slept calmed him like nothing else could. He also knew that the blond was more than obsessed with hair, especially his own golden locks, and that he put hygiene above all else.

But he didn't know much about his personal life, other than he ran a business that required a shit load of paperwork and not much supervision. He decided that putting Draco in the same boat as him and bombarding him with uncomfortable questions would settle the matter.

"Since we're discussing private matters," Harry's voice started low and dangerous as he started pacing in front of the sofa, trying not to sound too smug as he saw Draco grasp the real threat and swallow noisily. "How come you brought Narcissa to St. Mungo's? She would have been better off in St. Jude's. Actually, I'd get it if you had something against St. Jude's...what really has me confused is why you wanted to admit her to a nursing home in the first place. She can't be older than forty. She doesn't need administration of any serious medicine, and it's not as if you don't have the time or motivation to take care of her yourself.

"You're basically here all mornings and nights anyway. Talking to her and trying to involve yourself in caring for her as much as possible," Harry was thinking out loud now, eliminating all and any escape routes that Draco's evading answer might take. He sat back down beside Draco, having walked the tension out. They both looked at Narcissa's still fast asleep form for a while.

Harry let Draco take his time and choose his words carefully. After all, the blond had shown him the same courtesy before.

While Draco scrunched his eyebrows in concentration and lost himself in his thoughts, searching for the best way to answer, Harry watched him. He watched the golden locks fall into Draco's face as the breeze that came through the window –it wasn't cold enough to disturb Narcissa and since the fresh air that came in from the garden also brought with it the wonderful scents of the flowers planted there, they left the window open when the chill in the air went down– gently moved the stray strands around.

His eyes stayed on the grey thoughtful ones for a long time as he watched Draco stare off into space. Harry tried to stop his gaze from travelling down his face and openly stare at his lips. He failed. Even when Draco finally turned to fully face Harry, he couldn't lift his eyes from those pink lips that had slightly parted to allow words through. _To answer my earlier question, _Harry chastised himself. He tried to shake himself out of the daze, but he was mesmerized.

Draco closed his mouth again as he registered Harry's staring. His grey eyes travelled down to Harry's red full lips in turn. The atmosphere was becoming so charged that he was sure if he moved, the friction of his clothes against the charged particles would start a fire.

He realized that he wouldn't be able to move even if his life depended on it. Harry had him locked and frozen on the spot. There was nothing to do but to let the tension grow. And then grow some more.

He visibly shivered at the intensity of the moment. They were unconsciously leaning towards each other and were merely inches apart. If he were to reach out just a fraction of an inch, he would be able to brush his fingers against Harry's. He'd be able to cup his cheek and ghost his fingers across those lips. If he were to lean forwards slightly, his breath and Harry's would mingle and blow over his face. A few fractions more and their lips would touch.

That thought echoed through Draco's mind like nothing else ever had. He wanted so much to just reach out and pull Harry to him and kiss those lips just to see if the felt as soft as they looked. He could see a slight tremor going through the brunette's body and knew Harry's mind had arrived to the same conclusion that his own had.

Harry didn't know what he was thinking. In fact, he was pretty sure he wasn't thinking at all. The only images in his mind were those of him leaning forwards and pressing his lips to Draco's. He could feel the thrill of the kiss already. He could almost taste it. He leaned forwards and placed a small experimental kiss on Draco's lips, almost moaning as overwhelming feelings took over his mind and body.

And then he crashed back into reality. The reality in which Anthony had left him, crushing the last remaining pieces of Harry's already broken heart into unrecognizable and irreparable pieces. The reality in which Harry had given up hope of ever finding someone he could completely trust and be himself with. The one in which Harry still suffered from recurring nightmare brought on by his many insecurities and newly resurrected paranoia.

He tried to pull away from Draco, but while his mind was throwing him into the darkest place possible, somehow Draco had securely placed his arms around him. He started to struggle. He didn't want Draco to see him cry. And he knew if he stayed here any longer, that was sure to happen.

Draco paid him no mind and only tightened his hold on Harry, tucking the brunette head under his chin and rubbing soothing circles on his back. He'd let Harry run away from him once. That had clearly been a mistake and Draco wasn't known to make them twice. He started humming and shushing and patting Harry, holding him as tightly as he could in the awkward angle they were sitting. Harry started shaking first and then the sobs came. Somewhere in the back of his mind Draco was aware that Narcissa had woken up and was watching them silently from her bed, but he didn't care about that. He cared about saving Harry from whatever pain he was about to put himself through. And he wanted to know why Harry seemed so hurt by a small kiss that he had initiated himself.

But for now he only murmured reassurances into Harry's ears and continued to rub his back or gently rock him back and forth, trying to calm him down. The brunette tried to fight the tears in the beginning, but the comfort and silent shoulder he was offered were too tempting to turn from and he let the tears flow freely now.

"This is about that ex of yours, Anthony, isn't it?" Draco whispered in Harry's ears.

Harry started to shake more violently and nodded into Draco's shoulder, crying harder. Draco was amazed that at such a time he was still able to feel contempt towards Harry destroying his shirt. He scolded at himself and pushed the uneasiness away. This was what he had wanted after all. He'd wanted Harry to open up to him. He rocked them back and forth again, humming gently in Harry's ear to slow his panting into normal breaths once more and save the man from hyperventilating. Although it hurt him to see Harry in so much distress, he was glad to be the one Harry would open up to and he swore that he would help the brunette move on from whatever it was that was hurting him. Even though in the end Harry hadn't come to Draco on his own, he was still content that Harry hadn't tried too hard to push him away and had accepted the hand he'd been offered.

Harry's breathing started to even out after a long time and Draco lowered Harry's body horizontally into a more comfortable position and was finally able to run his hand through the dishevelled dark hair the way he'd wanted to when he'd first met Harry almost a year ago. A smile lit up his face as Harry sighed in his sleep and leaned further into the touch.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Notes:** I've decided to do shorter chapters but update faster. I'll probably update every two or so days, but don't hang me if I don't.

Thanks for the review :)

**Chapter 6:**

Harry woke up panicking. He'd fallen asleep at _work_. He didn't know what he'd been thinking; breaking down like that. His morning rounds were waiting. This was not good.

Draco felt Harry stir but continued to run his hands through the brunette strands. He could feel the distress in the small form and wanted to calm him down some.

Harry made to sit up and then stilled all together. He could feel lean fingers pressed against his scalp, playing with his hair. A warm feeling spread through him and he felt his breathing calm down.

A few moments passes before his thoughts caught up with him once more and he struggled to get up. He came eye to eye with calm grey orbs that were boring through his own startling green. It made him feel vulnerable. He shied away from the hand that had slid down from his head down to his shoulder and then his arm as he'd sat up. He looked away from the mesmerizing stare and cleared his throat.

Upon looking away from Draco, he realized that Narcissa was awake and leaning against the pillows that she'd placed at a gentle angle to the wall. She was politely studying her hands and playing with her fingers, meaning to give Harry and Draco some semblance of privacy.

A blush was creeping its way up Harry's cheeks due to Narcissa's notion that suggested privacy was needed in the first place. He tried to glance at Draco sideways and his blush deepened when the blond caught him in the act. Quickly looking away, he cleared his throat again and tried to stand up. After swaying on his feet for a while, trying to make the dizziness pass, he walked over to Narcissa and started the usual morning query about how she was feeling.

He couldn't help it if he was rushing through it a bit. After all, he still had other people to check up on in his morning rounds.

When he was striding across the room to get to the door, a head popped in and searching eyes found Harry. A slightly worried expression softened into one of relief as black eyes focused on him.

"There you are Nurse Harry! Is something wrong here? You've been gone for almost an hour now!" Yuki exclaimed.

Harry paled considerably. He'd lost thread of the time for a whole hour?

"Don't worry, I did all of your rooms while searching for you," Yuki said nonchalantly after seeing Harry's worried expression.

The brunette gave him a weary smile.

"Thanks Nurse Yuki."

"Sure. You sure you're okay? You can take the morning off if you need to. There's nothing else to be done now...just make sure you're back for lunch. I'll need help with taking everyone down."

Harry was about to decline the unnecessary consideration when Draco walked up to him and grabbed his arm. Harry frowned and looked down at the hand that tightened on his arm.

"Yes Harry, take the morning off and we'll go have some nice hot coffee."

Harry blinked. Before he had time to complain, Draco had him down the stairs and had a coat wrapped around him.

"Draco, you don't have to take me anywhere. I'm fine," Harry tried to argue.

Draco only raised an eyebrow and pushed him in front of the mirror by the front door, not saying anything.

Harry eyed his reflection and gulped. The dark circles under his eyes were the most prominent feature of his face. Paired with the unusually pale colour of his face; he looked like was dressing up as a ghost for Halloween.

He groaned and let himself be pushed out the door. He supposed some time off and a good cup of coffee –hopefully warm this time– couldn't hurt.

On the way to a cafe, Draco chattered softly and tried to get Harry to smile at his light humour. The brunette gave him a tired ghost of a smile for his troubles but stayed mostly quiet.

Once they ordered their coffee and settled down, Draco decided that it was time for Harry to speak the deep thoughts he had been obviously lost in. But to make it easier on him, he was going to start the conversation first and show Harry it was okay to talk about things that bothered him. He placed his hand on the table and leaned forwards to get Harry's attention. Somewhere in the back of his mind the fact that their hands were only inches apart on the table registered itself. When the emerald coloured eyes still didn't rise to acknowledge him, he cautiously brushed the tip of his fingers against Harry's smooth hands.

Harry started and looked up at a concerned blond. The warm touch on his hand was oddly comforting and it cleared the daze that his mind was in. He knew that for some reason he should pull his hand back but by this point he was so tired that his boundaries were left behind and were by now transparent sheets of nothingness. So instead of taking his hand away, he relaxed under the offered comfort and sighed gratefully. He could see that his reaction brought out surprise mixed with pleasure in the blond man sitting casually and yet somehow still elegantly in front of him.

Draco forgot to breathe for a second. He knew he was overreacting, but it all seemed so surreal. After tip toeing around shattered glass for weeks and avoiding any difficult subjects, Harry was finally welcoming his presence and accepting his help. Interacting outside the familiar setting of the nursing home was a new experience, one that he knew he could quickly and easily get used to.

Still holding Harry's eyes, Draco slowly started voicing his earlier words –the ones he had prepared in relation to Harry's question about Narcissa. Remembering very vividly the kiss that had interrupted his earlier answering tightened the muscles in his stomach. He tried to ignore it and pushed on.

"I brought Narcissa to St. Mungo's because her sister, Bellatrix, is in St. Jude's and she wanted nothing to do with her half-crazed sister. I don't blame her really."

Harry's eyes conveyed an unspoken question, but he didn't voice it. Draco wondered if he was too exhausted to even speak, but then realized that the brunette probably just hadn't wanted to interrupt him. He gave Harry a small smile.

"As to why admit her in the first place; honestly, she needs people surrounding her. With father gone, she's all alone at the manor all day with a few maids that have been trained to keep silent, so no real company there. Even if I spend the whole day with her, it's still too quiet. The silence reminds her of father's absence. She needs the company, the constant chatter and some distraction."

Harry nodded. He could understand that. He could even relate. He knew that if he didn't have Balthazar or Ron and Hermione to fill the silence around him and act as a distraction, he would wallow in self-pity and brood all day.

He wrapped his free hand around his warm cup of vanilla flavoured coffee. He knew that the offered information hadn't come without a price. It was his turn to answer a question of Draco's in turn. He tensed his shoulders and waited for the uncomfortable question that never came. After looking at Draco with a confused expression and being levelled with a slightly amused stare, he realized that the blond wasn't going to push him into revealing anything he didn't want to. Draco wanted him to give up the information on his own.

He took a deep breath but didn't really know what to say. He'd never been comfortable discussing his life. The only people who really knew him were Ron and Hermione and they were already used to him being a secretive person. They didn't really press him with questions of his past any longer and for that he was grateful.

He had nothing to offer Draco. Harry sighed and slumped in his chair, trying to fold in on himself. He tried to take his hand back from under Draco's. He wanted to put it under himself and sit on it in his attempt to become small enough to disappear.

His hand had slid and was almost by the edge of the table when Draco reached out and tangled his fingers with Harry's and tugged it back towards the middle.

"What's wrong?" Draco inquired.

"I...I don't know if I'm ready to open up just yet. I don't know if I ever will be. You can't pass me information in exchange for that. It doesn't work that way," Harry mumbled. He couldn't even look Draco in the eyes as he said that. He just felt so weak and exposed. He _hated _it.

Draco's expression softened. He hadn't really been expecting Harry to open up and tell him everything so soon. He would have been worried if he had. It would have meant that Draco would have to open up further too and pour all of his well-guarded secrets out. He didn't know Harry well enough to trust him with that. He was a private person himself and also lacked Narcissa's tact and ability to coax people into trusting her and feeling comfortable in her presence even if they'd just met her. She'd have them babbling their whole life story to her in less than five seconds. Then again, she hadn't been able to get anything out of Harry and here Draco was, earning his trust and believing that Harry would start opening up to him soon. He wanted to gloat, but of course held it in.

"That's okay, Harry. Don't worry about it. There are things that I'm not comfortable discussing either. I understand," Draco said as he played with Harry's fingers.

Harry's eyes widened with gratification and shock. He gave Draco a shy smile and pressed his leg against Draco's under the table. Draco blushed but rested his leg against his nonetheless. Harry couldn't believe he was enjoying the contact so much. Draco playing with his fingers was putting him in a relaxed state of mind and the heat pressing against his leg did wonders to calm him down further. He was imagining how easy it would be to fall asleep next to the blond when he caught trail of his thoughts and blushed, but still didn't pull away from Draco. It felt too good to move away. If anything, he wanted to press even closer.

They continued slowly sipping their cups of coffee in a comfortable silence until it was time to go back. Every once in a while they would share an amusing comment or interesting event that passed through their minds. The easy conversation and flow of caffeine woke up Harry steadily and by the end he was laughing along with Draco.

On the way back, a very satisfied Draco noted that Harry seemed much more awake and lively than before. His stance was more relaxed than Draco had ever seen it be and from all of the half smiles that had turned to genuine laughter by the end of the hour some colour had returned to his cheeks. It was amazing that just laughing a few times had made him look healthier than he had in days, Draco marvelled. He wondered why Harry didn't laugh more often and made sure to put in "make Harry laugh" as a part of his daily schedule.

As he walked down the sidewalk and told Draco about Balthazar's over-enthusiastic greetings at the end of every day when he went back home, Harry noticed how good he felt. He felt better than he had in ages and was amazed at the revelation. Even interacting with Ron and Hermione didn't bring a smile to his lips as often as talking with Draco had. He wondered about the attraction he felt towards the blond. Even when he considered them only acquaintances, he still had felt the pull. He still wasn't over Anthony and not ready for a new relationship, but perhaps just a close friendship and spending time in close proximity to Draco would benefit him. Hermione was always nagging at him to meet new people and make new friends, so he'd be hitting two birds with one stone.

He looked at the way the sun's rays were playing on the pale golden strands of Draco's hair. He looked at the warmness in the grey eyes that he'd put there. The shape of the sensuous pink lips that stole Harry's eyes ever so often. He knew he would have Draco's friendship and would have his back in turn although he'd only known him for such a short time. The connection he felt between them was simply too great to ignore.

Harry brushed his fingers against Draco's and watched him lick his lips. Yes, friendship would do for now. But soon, he knew he'd want more. He also knew Draco would be more than happy to give in to him.

For the rest of that day, even when Draco left in the afternoon to spend time with Scorpius in the park, the smile never left Harry's lips.

xXx

Harry's mornings soon became simply too busy, changing its pattern of lazily hanging about and going from room to room looking for something to do. It soon became tradition for him to do his morning rounds as soon as possible, run in the hallways if necessary and meet Draco in Narcissa's room by nine thirty. They would then go to their usual cafe, order some new blend of coffee and sometimes pastry, talk for an hour before rushing back to St. Mungo's.

Sometimes they would include Scorpius in their tight schedule or shift their daily meeting to a park nearby instead so that he could play there while they had bad hotdogs and sprawled on the grass. At first Draco was strictly against any form of sitting that had to do with grass, but after Harry started bringing a single blanket for him he couldn't protest any longer. They would just sit there and enjoy the sun while keeping an eye on Scorpius.

They wouldn't always be talking either, some days one would read a book or magazine while the other kept an eye on Scorpius. The companionable silence that formed between them became less and less awkward as the two got used to having the other one around even when they ran out of things to say.

On Harry's days off, they would walk Balthazar around and watch him run happily along. Harry's morning sessions of running after the dog were now not as lonely although Draco refused to run fast enough or long enough to sweat too much and would stop and call Balthazar back to them. Surprisingly, it turned out that Draco was the only person Balthazar would listen to and Harry was amused at the amount of respect that the Terrier showed the blond. Draco would just look at him smugly and pet Balthazar on the head.

He wouldn't control him too strictly and would allow the dog to run for a while however, as he believed it to be good exercise. He said that Harry spoiled Balthazar too much and gave the dog more than half of what he was eating even when Balthazar couldn't possibly have been hungry as he had just eaten an hour before. Harry would argue that the small dog had an endless tummy and was obviously hungry and feed him even more, saying that he couldn't resist the puppy eyes that the Terrier gave him while licking his lips tentatively and wagging his tail.

However, after one disastrous day when they took _both _Balthazar and Scorpius for a walk with them and had to chase around not only Balthazar but Scorpius as well, they never again took both boys out together. Scorpius would whine and miss the small dog endlessly and Harry could just tell that the golden Terrier was looking for his little friend every time Draco showed up to join them in their walks.

So that was why, on a cold Saturday morning, A blond man and his similarly blond son were standing at a once brown door that was peeling away to its original colour of white.

Draco rang the bell and waited for Harry to open up. He knew that Harry had recently moved back to this house after living in an apartment for a short while, but had yet to know the reason for such an action. He thought it silly, but there were a lot of things that he still didn't know about Harry and after finding out about each of them he'd never though them silly.

They heard an excited barking from inside and Balthazar started scratching at the door to get Harry to open it up faster.

They heard Harry scold Balthazar for scratching the remaining colour on the door and try to push him away from it. The door finally opened a fraction and an enthusiastic small dog squeezed through, jumping on Scorpius and wagging his tail madly. Draco chuckled as Scorpius picked the dog up from the ground and they both went inside the house that Draco had never seen before.

Harry held Draco's hand and squeezed, a bright gleam lightening his eyes. Draco squeezed back and grinned at Harry.

Scorpius said a hurried hi to Harry, then took Balthazar and went straight to the living room, sitting on the nearest arm chair and giggling while the dog licked his hands.

Harry and Draco shared a look. The two would be inseparable for hours to come. Harry trailed to the kitchen to check on the food. Today was one of his days off and Scorpius and Draco would be staying for lunch. He'd made spaghetti with a simple sauce, hoping that Scorpius would like it. He'd also made some Salmon filets on the side for himself and Draco; since he knew that the blond enjoyed seafood.

Draco took a deep breath and released it slowly, all the different and delicious smells tickling his nose. He felt hungry just smelling the food, although it was still two hours until lunch time. He saw Harry stand by the stove and stir the sauce and was overtaken by an overpowering urge to stand behind the brunette and wrap his arms around the small waist, hugging Harry from the back and holding him to him. He swallowed. They'd become really close, but he didn't think Harry would appreciate it if he hugged him so intimately just yet. He kept hoping that throwing Harry glances filled with desire would push him into moving their relationship past friendship and into something more, but the stubborn brunette kept pretending that he didn't realize any such pressure. Draco was _this _close into just pushing Harry against a wall and having his way with him.

They heard an excited yap from the living room and a loud laughter soon followed. Harry looked at Draco over his shoulder and gave him a wide smile. He was faced with a frozen Draco that his every pore was dripping with lust and had his unblinking eyes pasted on Harry's flushed face. Although his face was only flushed from the steam of the hot food, Harry could tell that Draco was imagining all the other ways that he could have gotten it blushing like that and he turned back around quickly, biting his lip.

He knew he had to do something soon. He had to either tell Draco that they could never be more than friends and stop leading him on, or just give in. Giving in sounded pretty darn good right about now but another loud laughter from the living room reminded Harry that now was the worst time to lose composure.

However, Draco and he would have to have a talk soon. A very long talk.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Notes: **I lost my USB and it had my chapter seven on it; since I usually type them out in school and save them on my thumb drive. I had to rewrite the whole thing. I liked the first version better, but that's long lost. It makes me shudder to think about what would happen if one of the teachers or my friends found it and looked through it and read my half-done chapter seven. I can already see their gaping mouths and twisted expression. *shudder*.

But I just can't postpone writing this to Monday so that I can have my USB -and therefore chapter seven- back; because today, 5th of June, is Draco's birthday and so I want to finish this today and get it out there. We love you Draco.

**Chapter 7:**

Harry was vaguely aware of Draco pushing up his sleeves and rolling them at his elbows. A sideways glance brought the mysterious tattoo that was on his left arm to Harry's attention once more. Draco stepped in front of the sink and started scrubbing his hands. Even after being around the man for weeks, Harry was still not used to some of Draco's strange habits, such as washing and disinfecting everything around him. He'd learned not to question it. It was a sensitive subject for the blond. Harry knew that Draco couldn't help the way he was, but was also aware that he still felt constantly insecure about it anyway. Draco would snap at anyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way.

They had once gotten into an argument about Harry's old converse shoes being out-dated and too dirty to keep around. That fight had lasted days; since both parties involved were too stubborn to compromise and end the fight. Harry still caught Draco glaring at his black pair of shoes as if he wanted nothing more than to introduce them to an over-enthusiastic chainsaw.

Forgetting about the sauce he was supposed to be stirring continuously, he eyed his shoes as critically as he could manage. They were torn and chewed in some places –all Balthazar there– and some unknown stains marked it here and there. But they were the most comfortable pair Harry owned and he wasn't about to give them up.

The sound of running water as Draco carefully rinsed his hands interrupted his musings. His arms flailed around for a moment in a notion of panic as he watched his wooden spoon go down in the pot of red steaming sauce. It would drown in a few moments but all Harry could do was stand watch. The steam was simply too hot for him to try and reach inside to grab the doomed spoon.

A tsking Draco pushed a frozen Harry out of the way. He reached down through the steam and easily took hold of the top of the handle that was still only barely above the surface with his forefinger and thumb and pulled it out.

Harry stared, speechless, as Draco shook the spoon and gently tapped it against the side of the pot to get the residue sauce off it. Seeing Harry's amazed expression, he shrugged and muttered something about having a high tolerance for pain and that he had not even felt the heat of the steam.

From studying the twisted mouth and the strained expression of Draco's face, Harry gathered that the spoon couldn't be saved and had to be rewashed. He tried not to groan and was so close to just offering to lick the extra sauce off the handle of the spoon –saliva, the horrors. Instead, he accepted the new spoon that Draco handed him with subdued eyes, sticking his tongue out at the back of Draco's head.

"Don't stick your tongue out at me, Harry Potter. I'm not having you food poison us on our very first visit." Draco said knowingly.

Harry frowned. Just what exactly was Draco accusing him of?

"I read this article once, in a magazine somewhere, that if you protect yourself from germs too much and sterilize your whole life, a simple flu can put too much strain on your body and kill you. 'Cause your immune system is so out of practice and can't fight it off." Harry replied brightly.

He couldn't believe he had remembered that article. He usually had a horrible memory.

His frown returned when his mind snapped at him that he was a nurse and therefore medical articles should be swimming behind his eyes all the time. Harry didn't like his mind very much at the moment. Couldn't he just be proud of himself for a while?

Apparently not. Draco was giving him a cold level look that clearly said he was not amused. Harry huffed. This was just not his day.

When Draco rolled his sleeves further up to wash the wooden spoon that Harry had so skilfully drowned in sauce, his tattoo came into view once more. Not able to help himself, and believing he had nothing to lose –since Draco and Scorpius were in _his _house and couldn't very well throw him out for being rude, he decided to finally ask about the tattoo that had puzzled him since day one.

Feeling eyes on him, Draco lifted his head and gave Harry a questioning look.

The picture that unfolded in front of Harry at that moment overwhelmed him. he suddenly had an image of the gorgeous blond with the sleeves of his dark grey sweater rolled up, elbow deep in foam water at the sink of Harry's kitchen, black pants riding low on his hips and his head turned towards Harry with the playful and carefree expression he was wearing now. He could see how easy it would be to fall into the pleasant pattern of doing such mundane things with Draco everyday and stared at him longingly, forgetting the question he'd meant to ask the blond.

Draco turned back towards the sink and continued scrubbing the wooden spoon to hide his smirk. No one could blame him if he'd put on his softest looking sweater. Even he couldn't stop brushing his fingers against the lovely fabric every now and then. He'd also pulled on black pants that fit him perfectly and had pushed it down low enough for it to be on the sexy side, but also still leave something to be desired.

If Harry wanted to ignore the unresolved tension between them that was constantly nagging at them, he was more than welcome to do so. Draco would just have to remind him of what he was missing over, and over and over again.

Harry shook himself and tried to unglue his eyes from Draco's form. He hastingly looked back at the pot of sauce before him when Draco turned around to put the now clean wooden spoon away. He was still stealing glances at the blond as Draco picked up a sharp knife and went to chop the lettuce and dice the tomatoes for the salad.

The soft tunes of a cheerful melody filled the kitchen as Harry turned up the radio. The two cut and sliced and mixed everything as Harry hummed along. They soon lost thread of the time and moved around each other in something close to a practiced routine as they leaned over each other or sidestepped to let the other reach what they were after and worked on their assigned jobs in the warm kitchen.

By the time the grumbling stomach of a hungry Scorpius brought him rushing to the kitchen with a similarly hungry Balthazar in tow, the spaghetti sauce was simmering on the fire and bubbling nicely, the pasta was sprinkled with cheese and the juicy salmon filets were put on paper towels to lose the extra oil.

Draco tilted his chopping board on top of the bowl of salad and pushed the last bits of chopped carrots in with his knife. He then had Scorpius wash his hands thoroughly as he lectured the small boy about positioning his hands out of Balthazar's reach until at least after lunch in order to _keep _them clean and then sent him off to set the table for five.

"Are you sure it was a good idea for you to invite your friends too?" Draco asked, clearly nervous, although Harry could tell he was trying hard not to show it.

He took a step closer to Draco without meaning to. Seeing Draco biting his lip in distress and looking away from him to voice his doubts made Harry want to take the blond away and hide him somewhere isolate forever as he laid his arms around the slender body and whispered reassurances in his ears. He realized he'd taken another step forward and had lifted his hand to cover Draco's with. His hand hovered in the air for a few moments as Harry tried to decide what to do with it. He finally very cautiously put it lightly on Draco's hand that was clutching the edge of the kitchen counter.

Draco, startled, looked up at Harry with uncertainty swimming in his eyes. Harry felt a tang of _want_ in his heart. He wanted to trace Draco's lips with his finger and pull that vulnerable face to his and kiss him until Draco forgot all of his troubled thoughts. Slightly breathless, Harry tightened his hold on Draco's hand and gave him a lopsided smile that might have been coloured with regret just a little.

"They're going to love you, don't worry. They'll fall for Scorpius for sure; they're in the baby fever stage of their relationship right now and go crazy over every kid they see. I'm pretty sure they're going to start wanting to have their own pretty soon, if they don't already. So you're covered there. Just don't comment on Ron's ginger hair and don't call Hermione a bookworm to her face and you'll be fine."

Draco looked at Harry with lowered eye lashes. He hadn't meant to appeal to Harry's sympathy, but he could play on it a little while longer if it meant Harry would keep holding his hand. He turned his hand around so that their palms were touching and twisted his fingers through Harry's. He watched the green eyes travel down to their joined hands with a sort of wonder shining through the bright emeralds.

He was worried that he'd overdone it when a long time passed and Harry still kept his eyes cast down. After Harry finally lifted his gaze and looked back into worried grey, there was a fire lit in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Draco could tell the man had made up his mind about something but didn't know what.

When Harry's free hand reached up to lightly trail the soft skin of his lips, Draco could do nothing but stand still, frozen with shock. He'd imagined this exact scene in his head, well, maybe not in the kitchen precisely, but still. The whole thing felt surreal. He wasn't aware that his lips had parted under Harry's touch until a chill went through the brunette at Draco's warm breath that was blowing over his finger. He slowly moved his tongue forward until the tip of it touched Harry's finger and watched as Harry shivered one more time with pleasure.

Harry lost himself in Draco's lust filled gaze and all he could feel was the warm tongue that was slowly wrapping itself around the top of his finger. He stared, mesmerized, as the tongue pulled his finger into Draco's mouth and the warmth of it engulfed him. It would have been funny that his knees were starting to feel wobbly and weak if Harry's mind had been capable of feeling anything else besides a strong pull and desire right now.

Draco had never felt so powerful before. He knew he had Harry in frenzy. He just couldn't help himself. It was as if his tongue had a mind of its own. He went with it and continued teasing Harry's finger. Running his tongue over it, he started to slowly bring the whole finger in his mouth as he sucked on it. He could see the overwhelming feeling of lust going through Harry. It was as if he could feel what he was doing to Harry just from the expressive green eyes that were by now dilated.

Harry couldn't take it anymore. He didn't know if in the end it was the image of Draco sucking his finger so willingly, the warm wetness pressed against his finger, or the mental picture that formed in front of his eyes of the sensuous lips wrapped around a different length altogether, that brought him leaning forwards and pressing his own lips against Draco's.

Draco had never been kissed this way before. Harry's finger was still halfway in his mouth and the brunette hadn't bothered to take it out. Instead of that making the kiss awkward, it brought out more desire in Draco than he'd thought possible. He wanted to stay pressed against the counter forever and be kissed by Harry until they both ran out of air.

However, the doorbell rang and put a stop to Draco's planning. Harry parted from him, looking very shaken but pleased and he stood there just watching Draco for a moment. He slowly pulled his finger out of Draco's mouth. Draco wanted to say something, anything, but his mind couldn't provide a single word.

Harry felt fireworks going off in his head. He knew he should go and answer the door that had rung a second time, but he was rooted to the spot. He didn't want to leave Draco, however silly that may sound, even to just go and open the front door. On the contrary, he wanted to shut everyone out and spend some time alone with Draco to figure this out. What did this mean for their relationship now? Harry had kissed him, and he'd enjoyed it immensely too. By the way that Draco refused to break their eye contact and still clutched Harry's hand in his own; it was safe to say that the blond had enjoyed the kiss too.

The doorbell rang a third time, followed by a "Is anyone home?" shout that Harry was almost sure had come from the ever impatient Ron. Harry felt irritated. He wanted to say something, but didn't know what would be the appropriate thing to say to the man that you'd shared such an intimate kiss with inside of your kitchen. Besides, he was pretty sure no words could explain all of the amazing feelings running through him right then.

He watched the insecurity return to Draco's eyes as the prolonged silence stretched. Instead of continuing his futile search for words, he pressed forwards and placed another kiss on Draco's mouth, softly pushing the tip of his tongue through. He stepped back, gave Draco a meaningful and gentle look to reassure him that although they were stepping into new territory, he was more than okay with it as long as he had Draco by his side. He then went to finally open the front door, tugging on Draco's hand that was still twisted around his own to bring him along. He wasn't ready to part with the blond just yet. He wanted him as close as possible. Any amount of contact, even the smallest amount, would be welcome and wanted.

He tried to pat down his hair before pulling the door open. Draco gave him a hopeless look that confirmed his suspicion that the action had only resulted in him dishevelling it even further. He shrugged it off. Ron and Hermione had seen him in worse conditions.

"Oh my God Harry! Were you going to leave us to freeze out there? What took you so long?" Hermione panted as she rushed in.

Ron followed, glaring at Harry accusingly. Harry bit his lip and smiled apologetically.

"Sorry. Had to get the salmon's off the fire. You wouldn't want charcoal for lunch now, would you?"

"Are you giving me an alternative between eating charcoal and freezing my backside off outside your house Harry? Remind me why we're friends again," Ron said between breaths as he blew on his alarmingly white finger, trying to get some life back in them.

"Honestly Ron, you got out of the house without gloves and you're blaming me for it?" Harry gave Ron a pointed look. "And, we're friends because if it weren't for me you wouldn't have met Hermione and flunked Calculus. Besides, you love my cooking and without it would have spent your college years eating fast food every day. If that had happened, you would weigh a ton now and be long dead from an early heart attack."

Ron turned sheepish and clapped him on the back.

"Yeah, mate. You know I appreciate that," said Ron. "But please, next time, just throw the fish out and let us in first, yeah? We could always go out for lunch."

A loud lightning made them all jump and Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron. They wouldn't be going out for lunch in that weather. But since the real reason he hadn't answered the door had nothing to do with fish, Harry didn't pursue the argument and just nodded his agreement.

He realized that Draco was half hiding behind him and gave himself a mental slap for standing there and arguing with Ron instead of introducing them. Draco must surely be feeling awkward and out of place by now.

As he turned to look at the blond and spotted amusement written all over his face however, Harry realized that the small banter had made Draco see that Ron and Hermione were just normal people and had thrown his earlier fears of not being accepted by them as Harry's friend out the window.

What he didn't realize was that the biggest reason for the drowning of Draco's doubts hadn't been that, but the kiss that they had shared earlier. It had made Draco feel like he was truly a part of Harry's world. It had made him feel wanted and needed. Even if Hermione and Ron didn't like him, that wouldn't change the fact that he now had a right to be in Harry's life.

When his fears of not being able to reach Ron and Hermione's standards had subsided, Draco had decided to just be himself and not care what they would think of him. What mattered was that Harry liked him.

The approving smile that Harry gave him said just that, and it made Draco melt with happiness. He couldn't wait to kiss Harry again. Now that that door was open, he knew he would be taking full advantage of passing through it all the time. But he certainly wasn't ready to share that aspect of their newly found relationship with people he'd just met, er, was about to meet, and so for now he settled on squeezing Harry's hand in his.

"Ron, Hermione, I want you to meet Draco Malfoy. Draco, meet my two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger-Weasley." Harry said.

"It's nice to meet you." Draco reluctantly let go of Harry's hand so he could shake Ron's cold ones and then Hermione's.

They both smiled at him warmly and said likewise and then they all moved into the living room after Hermione and Ron shrugged out of their coats.

As Harry had predicted, they fell in love with Scorpius at first glance, but didn't overcrowd the boy. The pleased brightness in their eyes shone through as they stood in front of Scorpius and watched him politely greet them. They shared a look and Harry knew that they had in fact decided upon having children and felt a thrill go through him. He was really happy for them. For the most part however, he anticipated being a godfather. It saddened him to think of his own godfather and the fact that he had passed away so soon after Harry had met him, but it strengthened his resolve to be a great godfather to Ron and Hermione's baby.

He felt Draco slip his hand through his again and pulled the blond towards him, watching Hermione coo at Scorpius as he told her about how old he was. He had never felt so content in his life.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Notes: **Thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate it. It means a lot to me that you guys like it.

**Warnings: **This chapter contains self-mutilation towards the end. I wrote it last night at midnight while I was in a mood and so it's a bit too strongly painted. Feel free to skip it if it proves to be too much to stand.

**Chapter 8:**

Throughout lunch, Harry's eyes kept darting back to Draco's every few seconds. If Draco was looking at his food or either Ron or Hermione as they chatted softly over their food, Harry would keep his eyes on the blond until he glanced back at him.

He wanted to see the reassurance in the grey eyes to make sure that what had happened between them earlier in the kitchen had been indeed real and not some highly detailed but crazy daydream he'd made up in his head.

Draco looked calm and collected to the untrained eye, but Harry had had a lot of practice in reading the slightest changes in the cool mask and he could tell that the blond was slightly shaken too.

Draco was more than slightly shaken. His heart was beating in his ears. He was sure everybody around the table heard the erratic beating too, but apparently his heart wasn't beating as loudly as he'd thought because no one called him out on it and the flimsy smiles he offered them were enough to make them believe he was listening to the conversation. In reality, Hermione could have been very well talking about bombing Draco's house and he wouldn't have known the difference. He would have nodded politely in agreement.

Harry saw accusing eyes settle on him from across the table. Perhaps it hadn't been the best of ideas to get Draco worked up like that right before they were to have company, Harry admitted to himself. But at the time, he really had forgotten about everyone and everything. He just had known that Draco was there pressed against him and his warm wet tongue was travelling up and down his finger. That had done nothing to strengthen his resolve to keep their relationship from turning into something more than friendship. In fact, it had greatly helped to effectively shatter it into pieces.

They shared another look and Harry knew they had to stop this and snap out of it somehow. They may be able to fool Ron for a longer time, but Hermione was bound to realize something was going on sooner rather than later. As it was, her eyes were narrowed slightly in suspicion, jumping back and forth between Draco and Harry.

He managed to keep his gaze on his food for the next fifteen minutes and even contributed a few words to the conversation around him. He only looked up at Draco when Hermione asked him what he did for a living, already knowing the answer and anticipating the reaction it would get.

"I run the Malfoy Company," Draco said nonchalantly.

Harry hid his smile at the gaping mouths of his friends by putting a forkful of salmon in his mouth. Draco was politely ignoring them as well and had brought up his glass of wine to his mouth, sipping slowly.

Harry remembered having had the same reaction when he'd first found out. If by that time he hadn't already come to know Draco as a normal person and a friend, all of that money and prestige would have thrown him off. Harry shuddered at the thought of never having known Draco like he did now and it brought out the familiar echo of the pain and loneliness he'd lived through after Anthony had left him.

He felt a chill go through him at the echo of the pain. He rubbed his arms to get rid of the cold; but his own hands weren't enough. He wanted someone else's touch to soothe the emptiness inside. He wanted Draco. Needed him. Desperately. It shocked him that just the thought of Anthony and the darkness he'd been in during the weeks after he'd left could do this to him now. It brought out such an intense need to feel desired that it was all Harry could do to not jump on Draco right then and there.

He wondered if he'd ever be able to completely stifle the pain that had nestled itself in his heart; the hole that Anthony had left behind. He got up and gathered the plates with slightly shaking hands, mumbled something about getting desert and went to the kitchen.

Dumping the dishes in the sink, he planted his hands on either side of it and closed his eyes, not having heard the footsteps following him into the kitchen. He felt a hand on his back and stiffened, trying to recollect himself.

"What's wrong?" Draco whispered.

"N-nothing," Harry whispered back. He wanted to turn around and hug Draco as tightly as he could; but knew that if he gave in to the temptation he would break down right there and cry his eyes out.

Instead, he took a deep breath before turning and met concerned grey eyes. He placed a kiss on the corner of Draco's mouth, inhaling his sweet and homey scent that helped calm his nerves and need for human touch.

Feeling his distress, Balthazar trotted after them in the kitchen and went to perch on Harry's feet. Harry marvelled at the faint blush colouring Draco's cheeks from the kiss and then looked down at Balthazar getting comfortable, sitting on his feet.

He felt the loving gaze of Draco and the offered warmth and comfort emanating from Balthazar and the ghost of a smile slightly raised the corners of his lips. He could do this. He would once again fill the hole that Anthony had dug in his life. He would get over it.

He didn't remember always taking breakups this hard. Maybe it was just that Anthony had left without a word, overnight. The shock of waking up alone and going through each room of the apartment, searching for someone that was long gone, still rung clearly through Harry's body.

He'd moved back into this house in a week and had tried to forget about the dark blond that seemed to have left town. But in the end, Hermione had been right. Going back to work had indeed been good for him. If he hadn't had the daily routines with Draco to look forward to, he knew he'd still be the broken shell of the man from before. 

His forced smiles had somewhere along the line turned into genuine ones and the sudden tears that would threaten to roll down his cheeks over nothing at all came less and less each day until Harry could finally believe that one day he'd get over this breathtaking pain that was eating through him.

"I'm okay," He said again; more firmly this time. He went to the fridge to take out the chocolate pudding, gently pulling his feet out from under Balthazar's soft body.

A confused but satisfied Draco followed him out the kitchen with spoons in hand. The five of them spent the afternoon licking chocolate off their spoons and laughing at silly jokes.

Ron was telling Harry about a new café that had its tables and chairs made in different shapes of cupcakes and ice-cream when Scorpius's head lolled onto Draco's shoulder as he started to fall asleep, giving the signal that it was time to go.

Draco ended his conversation with Hermione about the new book that she was reading quite reluctantly. In the few hours that they'd spent together, he had come to appreciate Hermione's hunger for knowledge that rivalled his own.

He'd also found a tolerance for Ron, although he wasn't yet sure about what Hermione saw in him. But the ginger was good with Scorpius and thus he was placed in Draco's good book.

They all left one by one and Harry nestled back against the comfortable sofa, hugging a pillow to his chest. He ran his hand through Balthazar's golden fur as the dog placed its head on his knee.

He would have to get up and wash the dishes soon. But for now Harry was content with just sitting there and enjoying the warmth inside him. It was glowing like a small sun, fuelled by the memory of Draco's soft lips against his.

xXx

Draco didn't remember driving home and carrying Scorpius to bed, which was somewhat alarming. He'd lost himself in the memory of burning green eyes and warm lips. He frowned to himself. He was not going to act like a lovesick teenager.

It was just that the carefree brunette brought out a side of him that had been buried deep inside. He wanted to share secret kisses with Harry all the time. He wanted to stay up late watching bad TV with him. He wanted to be the cause of his delicious laughter.

He'd never felt that simple desire to just _do things together_ with any of his former boyfriends or even wife. Hence the ex.

Draco had spent most of the day with Harry and yet he found himself already missing the bright presence. If Harry had had a phone, Draco would have called him.

That was another puzzling thing about the brunette and Draco wasn't sure he understood it. Harry had money. He had _a lot_ of money. Draco had seen him give generous amounts of it to various charities. He had a house in the best part of town and a huge garden for Balthazar to run in.

But he hardly used it. He still walked Balthazar in the streets. And his house needed repainting very badly. His clothes were ragged and torn. And as for his furniture, he had placed the most expensive looking leather chairs and a holey wooden armchair together in one room. The most beautiful pieces of art were draped over his walls, but amongst them artworks also existed that were seemingly done by a four-year-old child. He kept his phone unplugged and didn't own a cell phone or a computer. No way of communicating with the outside world whatsoever.

It was like Harry lived inside a world of his own where the cheapest objects and the most expensive ones held the same value and oddly complimented each other. Draco wanted to be part of that world, even though he had just admitted that he didn't really understand it. He'd had fun today, regardless of the fact that the furniture had clashed terribly together, hadn't he?

Draco suddenly frowned. He was thinking back to the second time they'd gone into the kitchen to grab the deserts. Harry had paled considerably and had almost run towards the kitchen. He hadn't even heard Draco as he'd followed him and Draco's hand on Harry's back had only made him tense up instead of help him relax as it had meant to do. When he'd turned towards Draco, the look in his eyes had been eerily hollow and a raw pain had dulled the usually bright green of them.

Draco had been distracted by the kiss that Harry had placed on the corner of his lips however and it had left him wanting more, suitably thrown off track. He'd forgotten all about the pain that had seemingly out of nowhere took hold of Harry, which was probably what the brunette had intended.

Although he promised himself he'd talk to Harry about it and demand answers later, the thought remained in the back of his head and bothered him throughout the evening as he did more paperwork and made some business calls. It seemed that Harry was good at changing the subject, even if it _was_ a silent conversation. Draco would have to be gentle and careful while discussing the subject.

Draco went to call for pizza and sighed. Harry was also a very good cook. Draco could never find the patience needed for cooking. True, he could help around some, but that was about it.

When Scorpius reluctantly poked his piece of Hawaiian Chicken pizza that he usually drooled over, Draco knew that the small boy was enchanted by Harry's cooking too and grinned. That just meant they'd have to go visit Harry more often. He could live with that. Yes, he could very well live with that.

After barely touching their dinner, brushing Scorpius's teeth and reading him a bed time story about flying cars, Draco tucked Scorpius in. He soon brushed his own teeth and changed into pyjamas. He had a early morning running session with Harry and Balthazar tomorrow. He went to sleep with a smile on his face.

xXx

Harry woke up panting in the middle of the night. He was burning up. The sheets were sticking to him and were soaked with his sweat. But he couldn't find it in him to care about that. All of his focus was on the nightmare he'd just had.

He frantically patted the bed around him and felt a disgruntled Balthazar jump off it. But there was nobody else in the bed with him. No heat pressed against him, pulling him close. No one to soothe him after a horrible nightmare. No Anthony.

And just like that, just the one single thought, brought back all the pain he'd been trying, trying so hard, to bury deep inside. The confusion of waking up alone on that day. Calling after Anthony and the house mocking him with its silence. The sinking feeling deep inside as he opened drawers and found nothing of Anthony's left behind. Nothing to prove he'd ever been there at all. The nausea he'd felt for days at the thought of all the empty space in his apartment. All the emptiness inside himself, mirroring it.

It all came back in the dead of the night and Harry felt dizzy from the rush. He stumbled towards the bedroom door, cursed as he stubbed his toe against the corner of the bed, and found the light switch. He flicked it on and narrowed his eyes against the sudden glare of the bright lights.

He limped back to the drawer beside his bed and pulled out the top one on the left. Able to see a bit more clearly now, although his mind was still caught in the haze of pain and loss, far from clear, he found what he'd been searching for. All he knew was that he didn't want to feel so empty anymore. He didn't want to feel so alone and hopeless anymore.

He took the razor firmly in his right hand and pressed it against his left one, just below the thumb on the back of his hand. He didn't move it, just pressed it there for a while. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he felt the cool metal on his skin for a few moments and let it calm his nerves.

He opened his eyes and looked down. Biting his lip, he felt his breathing speed up and his heart beat fast in anticipation of what was to come. Then, quickly, he pulled the sharp razor across his soft skin in a straight short line.

A shock went through him and he jerked back, breaking the contact immediately. He hadn't realized how hard he'd been pressing the razor against his skin. His eyes widened. He really hadn't meant to make it a deep cut.

When the skin parted, he felt a moment of clarity. He remembered Draco and the light he'd brought into his life. He wondered at his reason for cutting and whether it was a good enough reason or not. He wondered if someone stronger than him would have laughed and just shrugged off the pain that had etched itself into Harry's core.

This was the only way he could get through it. He wanted to turn the unbearable emotional pain into something physical, something he knew how to handle. He'd stopped cutting for five years, ever since he'd gotten away from the Dursleys and had wanted to start a new life. He hadn't so much as handled a razor in those five years and had tried so hard to resist the temptation of falling back into the familiar pattern.

His cuts were usually so shallow that they never really drew any blood. They were deep enough to leave scars, however. Harry brushed his fingers over the longer scar above his right knee. It still hadn't completely faded after five years.

The pain stinging on his hand silenced all of Harry's troubling thoughts of Anthony and loneliness. For a moment, everything went still. It all stopped. The only sound in the whole house was Harry's shallow breaths and the muffled breathing of Balthazar as he slept under the bed to hide from the blinding light. Harry was able to think again. He felt as if he'd been trying to breathe under water and now he'd finally broken through the surface. His breathing slowed and he put the razor down.

Closing his eyes, he just enjoyed the calm he felt inside. No more doubts or confusing feelings to deal with. Nothing at all. It was just him and the cut. Just him and the stinging on his hand. There was no need to think about Anthony, or Draco, or anyone else right now. It was just Harry. This was his world, even if he could only grab hold of it for a few seconds. He controlled it.

All of this took less than a second, but it felt like hours before Harry finally opened his eyes and glanced at the parted skin below his thumb. It looked strange. It was as if the blood hadn't yet realized that the surface was cut and it was supposed to be rushing out. The cut piece of skin seemed almost abnormal without the blood there. Harry leaned forwards, watching it closely.

The parted skin on his left hand just stared back at him for a few moments before the blood rushed through and Harry stilled in shock and wonder. He was actually bleeding. By a cut he'd made himself. He'd never cut so deeply before. There had never been so much _blood._

Going back to cutting had almost come as a relief after he had resisted the song of the steel that had been calling to him for five years. Every night, even on the happier ones, he'd lay awake in the dark, thinking of the razor. Feeling it cutting through his skin. The rush, the pain, the relief. Feeling it and yet resisting it. At times, the thought of going and picking something, _anything, _sharp had dominated his mind for hours, but he'd somehow overcome it. He had somehow held the hunger, the need, at bay for five years. But now he didn't have it in him to fight it anymore. He kept the razor sterilized and took care of the cuts too; so he saw no reason to ever stop again.

He grabbed a tissue and dabbed it at the wound. Realizing that the cut would keep bleeding, he scrunched up the tissue and pressed it firmly against the wound. He wondered briefly about what his friends would think if they saw him now, but pushed that uncomfortable thought quickly away. He put more pressure on the tissue that he had pressed against the wound and willed the cut to close and stop bleeding.

He peeked under the tissue every now and then; but after five minutes, the blood was still oozing out even though he'd kept his arm above his heart's level. That was what you were supposed to do, right? Or was it below the heart's level? Harry cursed his memory. He was a nurse for Goodness' sake. He was supposed to know these things by heart.

He was pretty sure he'd been doing it right, but was too tired to go look it up. He pasted the biggest band aid he could find on the deep cut and threw away the blood stained tissue. He pushed the razor back inside the drawer and went back to bed, turning the lights off.

The wound on his left hand stung every now and then, but the crushing pain caused by the nightmare had long subsided and after rolling around to find a comfortable position without pressing his left hand against anything, Harry went into a light doze, not bothered that there wasn't another warm body beside him on the bed anymore. He tumbled over the line of sleep and awareness all night.

xXx

In the morning, as he sat on the edge of the toilet seat brushing his teeth, he lifted the plaster to check the cut. He noted that there wasn't a lot of dry blood on the band aid and concluded that it must have stopped bleeding almost immediately.

The cut was slightly bruised on the side and he poked it to see if it still hurt. Running his hand over the fresh looking straight line of blood, he felt a small bump. It was bruised, but didn't hurt much. He decided to wait for it to fade before he made another cut. Which could be months.

But that was the consequence of cutting so deeply, Harry scolded himself. He felt shaken and weak, although he hadn't lost that much blood. He hoped they didn't run for a long time this morning. He wasn't sure he could keep up. His legs were wobbly as it was.

After unsuccessfully trying to tame his hair with a brush, he pulled on a black tee and grey jumper. The jumper was slightly big for him and its sleeves almost came down to the middle of his fingers. It covered the cut completely, as Harry had wanted.

He was pretty sure that no one would notice the small angry looking wound, but didn't want to risk it anyway. Hermione had caught him with a long scar on his forearm five years ago and had figured out what he'd been doing. She was the main reason he'd stopped that many years ago after he'd moved out of the Number Four Privet Drive, but he didn't want her to worry or try to stop him this time. As long as his wounds didn't get infected, he saw no reason to stop.

He grabbed a piece of toast from the kitchen and nibbled on it as he sprawled over the sofa and waited for Draco to show up so that they could go walk Balthazar. Nope, no one had to know what Harry got up to when the emptiness inside him became overbearing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the review! I'm sleep deprived and out of coffee, but here you go.

**Chapter 9:**

It was a Monday evening that found a weary Harry entering his kitchen after a long day of work. He started when he realized that one of his chairs was occupied by someone.

"Hermione," Harry said cautiously.

It was obvious that she'd been waiting for him to get home and the icy stare that she was giving him did not promise any good news. He knew she was here because it was a Cleaning Monday when they gathered at Harry's house and cleaned up everything; same as the Cleaning Saturday when they gathered at Hermione's after their Friday dinner there and cleaned up everything. But he had no idea what she could have found to get her this upset. Maybe a dead rat in the basement?

She waited for him to throw his bag in a chair and sit down in front of her. They sat in silence for a while until the gloomy atmosphere fully enveloped Harry and had him swallowing with dread.

Hermione opened her closed fist that she had placed in the middle of the table and pulled her hands back, all the while keeping her eyes on Harry, like a tigress watching a trapped rabbit.

Harry blinked and looked at the blood stained tissue presented to him. It seemed so out of place on his kitchen table where he had cereal every morning. He gulped, opened his mouth to offer an explanation, but the closed-off, no-bullshit look that Hermione was giving him had him closing his mouth back again.

"I was cleaning up your room," Hermione offered. "I found this sitting on top of your trash can. Care to explain?"

Harry closed his eyes. He'd totally forgotten to take out the trash. He'd also forgotten how observative Hermione could be.

"I just cut myself Hermione. People bleed. It's what happens. It's a little blood, that's all."

"Harry, this is not just a _little _blood. It's a lot of blood! Did you cut yourself, or did you _cut _yourself? Don't think you can get around me with those double meanings, Harry. I know you. Now, show me the cut."

Harry groaned and unconsciously pulled the sleeve of his jacket further down his left hand.

The small move attracted Hermione's attention, since it was the only movement in the small kitchen. She looked at Harry sharply and placed her open palm on the centre of the table, making a silent demand.

Seeing no way out of this, Harry slowly and reluctantly placed his left hand in hers, regarding her worriedly. He wasn't a seer or anything, but even he could tell that his future wasn't looking so good at the moment. Hermione would surely bite his head off.

She looked at his bitten fingernails for a few moments. The prolonged time did nothing to calm Harry's nerves. Then, with a foreboding feeling deep in her stomach, Hermione reached out with her free hand and slowly pulled his jacket sleeve up his arm, revealing the angry line of red. It almost glowed ominously against the pale colour of Harry's skin.

She slowly let out a breath she'd been holding in. The silence continued and Harry's courage grew a fraction.

"Paper cut?" He tried.

She looked at him and grimly shook her head from side to side. Her bushy brown hair was pulled back in a bun, giving her an even more serious expression. In contrast to that, a silent tear rolled down her cheek and she croaked, "I was afraid this would happen."

Somehow, her disappointment was more plummeting than all the screaming she could have done. Harry felt weighed down by it, as if it had a physical force.

"Sorry, 'Mione," He looked down, biting his lip. He regretted cutting, her really did, but didn't she understand? He couldn't resist it. He _needed _it. It had only been a few days since he'd made the cut and although he had promised himself not to cut until this scar had faded, he already wanted another cut, a fresher one. But he'd resisted that urge so far. Didn't that count as something?

No it didn't. He already felt his resolve cracking. He wanted to cut, and he knew he would again; soon.

"I thought you'd given up cutting," Hermione whispered as she pulled her knees up and hugged them to her chest.

"I had! I stopped for five years, Hermione. But-but then, Anthony..." He swallowed hard. He pushed back his own tears that were stinging his eyes and frowned. "But then he left. He left me. Everyone leaves me, 'Mione. First my parents and now I can't even hold on to anyone for longer than five or six months! They all dump me. I'm not good enough. I'm not likeable or interesting enough.

"I try! I try really hard. But it doesn't work. It's just so hard. I'm so lonely, and I can't even talk about it with anyone!"

"Oh, Harry! Of course you're likeable! You're the nicest person that I know! And besides, you can always talk to me or Ron, you know that!"

Tears were flowing freely down Hermione's cheeks now and she was squeezing his left hand that was still clenched in her own. Seeing his wince from the unintended pressure she was applying to his unhealed wound, she loosened her hold on his hand. He shook his head at her.

"I can't. You two are so happy. You're trying to get pregnant," He quickly rushed through his next sentence upon seeing her alarmed expression. "And I'm really glad for you guys, I am. But you are lost in your own lives and problems and I don't want to make you worry or bring you down."

"Harry," Hermione sniffed. "You are still a big part of our lives. If you get infected or cut yourself too deeply and do some real damage... Harry you can actually die from this!"

"I know that!" Harry snapped and pulled his hand out of hers. "I'm careful with it, of course I am! It helps me calm down and sort through the mess in my head. I'm not going to die, 'Mione. Don't be melodramatic."

"No, it doesn't help you, Harry! Do you even realize how messed up it is that you believe hurting yourself _helps _you? It only pushes you down a slope of self-pity and depression. Don't tell me you don't look at it the next day and feel pathetic and miserable! And don't call me melodramatic! I just worry about you!"

Harry leaned back in his chair and just stared at her.

"How would you know what I feel the next day? And who asked you to worry about me in the first place? Go worry about Ron or something!"

"I know how you feel because I read up on it five years ago. I read all I could find on the subject so that I could help you, you idiot. Besides, I'm your friend. Friends worry about each other!"

"You know how I feel because you _read about it_?" Harry looked at her in astonishment, caught between saluting her for her good memory from five years back and throwing her out of his house. "Reading it and going through it are two _very _different things Hermione!"

"And yet you have done nothing to deny that that's exactly how you feel the next day!" She snapped back at him.

"God, Hermione, will you just back off? Do us both a favour and stay out of my life! I'll live it however the hell I want to!"

Harry almost felt guilty from the flicker of pain across Hermione's face, but not quite. He was pushed back in a corner and had no option but to push his way back out of it.

"That's just it, Harry. You're _not _living it." Hermione said in a monotone before getting up and leaving the kitchen.

Harry didn't hear the door close behind her as she left the house. He was lost in his own world and was putting more thought to what Hermione had told him than he'd like to.

xXx

The rest of the week passed without any sign of Hermione. Ron still came by to see Harry every couple of days, but they both avoided the subject. He felt awkward sitting there talking to Ron about football as if everything was still the same as before when they both knew that it wasn't. Ron knew that there was a bright red scar on Harry's left hand, and yet although Harry was wearing a tee, he never caught Ron looking down at it.

xXx

Draco knew that something was bothering Harry. They had spent their breakfasts at the café in a thoughtful silence. He was quite sure that sometimes Harry forgot his presence, so deep in thought he was.

After a week, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Harry?" He nudged the brunette sitting in front of him.

"Hmm?" Harry replied, still half lost in his thoughts.

"Is it me? Did I do something?" Draco asked as he sat up even straighter than before.

"What?" A startled Harry finally focused all of his attention on the blond in front of him.

"Well what else am I supposed to think? First you kiss me in a kitchen out of the blue and then you go a week without really speaking to me. You just sit there, sip on your damned coffee and look right through me," Draco said.

He hadn't realized how much Harry's actions had been truly hurting him until he blurted it all out.

Harry blushed at the mention of the heated kiss and placed his cup on the table. He hadn't meant to ignore Draco. He'd just had a lot on his mind.

"No, Draco! It's not that. Honestly, we're good, don't worry."

Draco only sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. Realizing he wouldn't be satisfied with a half answer, Harry sighed.

"'Mione and I had a fight. Now she's not talking to me." Harry pouted. "It's been a week. A whole week! Last time she stopped talking to me was years ago when Ron and I threw her an intervention for her crazy cat, and it only lasted three days that time."

"Oh." Draco relaxed a fraction. "What did you two fight about?"

Harry squirmed in his chair as he thought back to the reason for their argument. It had been more than a week since he'd made the cut on the back of his hand and after Hermione had found out about it, he'd stopped covering it up with long sleeves. No one else had even noticed the red scar, although Harry's eyes were constantly drawn to it and his fingers brushed over it to evaluate the bump at least once every hour.

By now, it was an almost reddish brown and didn't stand out so much anymore. Around the scar was still quite red however, indicating that it was not yet fully healed.

"What is it, Harry?" Draco's concerned tone brought Harry back to the present after a long silence.

He cleared his throat. He hated feeling so _trapped._

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry said as he got up, threw his empty cup into the trash can and walked out the door.

An astonished Draco recomposed himself after Harry's abrupt behaviour and then rushed to catch up.

He gritted his teeth. Malfoys didn't 'rush to catch up' to anyone. They were the ones who walked away and expected others to follow them. He didn't like it that Harry seemed to have him twisted around his little finger.

Nevertheless, Draco trailed after Harry back into the nursing home. He climbed the stairs after him and entered Narcissa's room after him.

But he didn't start a conversation with Harry for the rest of the day and avoided his eyes.

xXx

Harry glanced guiltily at Draco throughout the day, but the blond never returned any of the glances. He knew he'd screwed up his friendship with Hermione and couldn't do anything about it at the moment. But if he let Draco go like this, he'd be damaging the one single good relationship he had in his life right now, excluding Ron's non-demanding friendship.

When Draco came back from work at night, Harry took deep breaths at the nurses' dinner table. He kept his attention on the silent blond that would nod or smile at Narcissa every now and then.

After he checked in on all the patients on the first floor and made sure they were comfortable, had had their medicine, and were ready for bed, he peeked inside Narcissa's room. Draco was lying on the bed beside her, fingers interlaced on his stomach, and they were chatting softly.

The portrayed image of ease pouring out of Draco made Harry's heart clench painfully. Whenever they were together, the both of them had their guards up and were at least a little tense. He wanted to know this carefree side of the blond.

After Draco kissed Narcissa's forehead goodnight and Harry turned the lights off and grabbed his bag, they awkwardly stood outside St. Mungo's. This was where they usually said their goodbyes and parted ways. Even though they were having a bad day, neither of them wanted to part without a word, although neither was ready to break the silence either.

Harry sighed and said, "Come on."

He pulled on Draco's arm and turned left.

"What? Where are we going?" A startled Draco asked.

"I want to show you something," Harry replied.

"Harry... I've had a long day, and I'm really tired..." Draco stopped mid-step and tried to pull his hand out of Harry's.

"Please? I promise you'll love it!" Harry turned hopeful eyes to him.

Draco lost himself in the startling green eyes for a few moments. Even under the moon light, the limited light offered by the lamp posts caught on the green of his eyes and played on them, creating shades of dark blue and streaks of grey.

Taking full advantage of a speechless Draco, Harry dragged him down the quiet sidewalk.

Before Draco could remember he was supposed to oppose Harry o the matter, they were by the brunette's house.

"You wanted to show me your house?" Draco asked, confused. "I've already seen your house, Harry, remember?"

Harry rolled his eyes and went around the house and into the garden, still gently pulling on Draco's hand.

By now his hand had slid down his arm and they were holding hands. Although Draco was confused about their destination, he felt comfortable just walking through the trees, casually holding hands. He looked up at the twinkling stars and the big white moon. Taking a deep breath, he felt calmer than he had had in a long time.

Harry gave Draco a sideways glance and felt a smile play around the corners of his lips. He had been right to bring Draco out here.

They had been walking for five minutes when Harry finally came to a stop in front of a big oak. It had loose thin branches trailing downwards, some long enough to brush against the ground. A few fireflies lit up around it every now and then and a gentle breeze swayed its green leaves.

Draco gazed at the picture in front of him, a new-found appreciation for serenity running through him.

"It's beautiful," He murmured, not really wanting to shatter the silence formed around them, save for the chirping of the crickets.

Harry nodded his head in agreement.

"It's as old as I am. My parents planted it when I was born," Harry said quietly and wistfully, not meeting Draco's eyes. "That, and this house, is the only thing I have left of them."

And suddenly Draco could understand why Harry couldn't seem to part with this old house and had moved back here. He knew the reason why Harry didn't want to repaint it or spend too much time in its gardens. He didn't want to damage the only thing left from an earlier life; he wanted to keep everything as they were.

"I think about them all the time, you know," Harry offered, seeing the apprehension lighting up Draco's face. "I come out here and just sit, staring at my oak for hours, while Balthazar runs around."

Draco didn't know what to say at that. He wasn't a great comforter. They weren't keen on sharing emotions in his house and so he'd never learned how to deal with them. All he could do was to squeeze Harry's hand.

Harry looked down at their intertwined hands with a start. He hadn't realized that he was still holding onto Draco's hand. He contemplated letting it go, but decided against it. It felt good to maintain the small contact and he needed the warmth and comfort that it offered.

"My aunt and uncle sold this house when they got custody of me. Thankfully, they couldn't touch the small fortune that my parents had left for me and so I was able to buy it back when I moved out of that horrible house."

"Sounds like you didn't really enjoy living with your aunt and uncle," Draco observed.

Harry snorted.

"That's the understatement of the year. They made my childhood a living hell. Sent me to a boarding school once I turned eleven, thinking it would be horrible. It kind of backfired on them. It was like my home and I met Ron and Hermione there. Of course I told the Dursleys that they beat me every day there, just to keep them from transferring me. I had the best adventures of my life in that school, and I spent the holidays over at Ron's house with his family." A soft smile touched Harry's lips. "The Weasley's are my adopted family. I still spend most of my holidays over there."

Draco inhaled the clean air around him, highly satisfied. Harry was offering information of his past. He was letting Draco in. True, he was trying to make up for a week of ignoring him, but that didn't make the offered information any less valuable.

Harry leaned gently against Draco. The cool breeze was starting to get too cold. Their intertwined hands were trapped between their sides that were pressed together and Draco felt warmth gather inside him at the intimate stance.

They stood there for another five minutes, enjoying each other's company, until it became too cold and Harry started shivering.

"Want to come inside and have some hot coffee?"

Draco turned dubious eyes onto Harry.

"If I stay here any longer than this, I won't get home until well after midnight."

"So don't leave. You can just stay over. I have a lot of guest rooms you can choose from, and since _I _don't live all the way on the other side of town," Harry gave Draco a pointed look, "You can even wake up later than usual and walk to St. Mungo's with me."

Draco frowned and weighed his options. Finally, the overbearing chill in the weather made up his mind for him and he jogged back to Harry's house with him.

They went inside through the back door and Balthazar immediately came running into the hallway. He went over to Draco, tongue hanging out of his mouth and tail wagging madly.

"Hey there pretty boy," Draco murmured as he kneeled down to scratch Balthazar's white fur on his belly. The Terrier splayed himself on the ground and stretched under Draco's playful scratching.

Harry laughed at how mesmerized Draco was by the small dog and went into the kitchen to set the coffee.

In ten minutes, Draco was seated comfortably at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee while Harry had climbed onto the counter with his own mug.

Continuing on as if their flow of conversation had never stopped, Draco leaned forwards in his chair.

"If it's any consolation, I didn't have the best childhood either."

Harry smirked and raised his eyebrows.

"Really? The Malfoy heir had something that was less than perfect?" Harry's smirk grew when a frown appeared on Draco's face. "Don't tell me. Was the porridge in the third course of your breakfast a degree cooler than it should have been?"

Draco looked appalled.

"You can't have porridge as the third course in your breakfast!" He exclaimed hotly.

Harry bit back his laughter and Draco's frown deepened when he realized he was being mocked.

"You know that's not what I'm talking about!" Draco scowled. The memories swarmed into his head and his voice turned quieter and more serious. "We had a typical household. Lucius was the head of the family and mother adored him. I was the obedient heir. I had private classes all day. I learned horseback-riding, fencing, music, French and Latin. My spare time was spent in the drawing room or library with Lucius. He showed me how to conduct a business as was expected of the Malfoy heir. Narcissa spent her days tending to the flowers in our garden and ordering the maids around. She lectured me on my manners.

"There was no time or place, even in the privacy of our home, for emotional breakdowns. Even too much excitement was frowned upon. Ever since I can remember, it was expected of me to receive gifts with a cool mask in place, as if I had expected it and deserved more. As a child, that was more than difficult to achieve.

"I could see that mother sometimes felt that my trainings were too hard and expectations were placed too high. She would come in my room and sing me to sleep some nights. That was the only affection I ever saw."

Harry sipped his coffee thoughtfully, easily imagining a small boy with pale blond hair, sitting straight on the back of a horse, with cold grey eyes and his chin raised proudly. He could imagine the disapproving and demanding scowl of Lucius haunting the boy everywhere. He felt a fierce protectiveness jump out inside of him and fought hard to keep himself from going across the kitchen and sheltering Draco against the world. He hated Lucius and what he'd done to Draco as a small child.

"I was a workaholic just like Lucius. My whole life revolved around work and getting his approval," Draco continued slowly, as if emerging from deep thought. "Until he was arrested for fraud and it all crashed down on me. The Company was put under severe surveillance and I worked hard, still am, to clear the Malfoy name of the horrid stain that Lucius put on it. But I doubt people's perceptions of my family will change in this lifetime."

Harry hopped down the counter and went to sit beside Draco.

"At least I'm not a crazy workaholic anymore," Draco said as he offered a weak smile to Harry.

"Don't beat yourself up over something you couldn't control, Draco. It isn't your fault," Draco gave Harry an incredulous look. "It isn't! It's Lucius's fault for getting himself in that situation in the first place, jeopardizing his company and most importantly: his family."

"I guess," Draco whispered.

The heartbroken expression on Draco's face had Harry leaning closer and putting his arms around the fragile body of the blond.

Draco put his head on Harry's shoulder and sighed heavily. He'd never shared that with anyone before and now he felt eerily empty. But calm. So very calm.

They were in the library, Harry sprawled on an armchair horizontally and Draco lying on the sofa beside him, when they finally fell asleep. Harry had been telling Draco about back when he'd meant to marry Ron's sister, Ginny, but had found out that he was gay and had stayed up all night with Ron thinking of ways to break it to her. Draco had long forgotten about their earlier heartfelt moment and had been laughing along as Harry told him about some of their more creative ideas of sending a jet with a flyer that announced his sexuality to the whole town and therefore Ginny. They both fell asleep there with a smile on their face, not wanting to go into separate bedrooms and sleep apart.

Although Harry's back and neck were stiff when he woke up, he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept through the night and hadn't even had a single nightmare and he smiled softly at Draco's still sleeping form.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Notes: **This chapter's been done since Friday – three days ago. I just never got around to typing it. It's a longer chapter than the last ones, and there's a lot of confrontations and conversations in it.

**Chapter 10:**

As days rolled by, it became an often occurrence for Ron to pop in Harry's place in the mornings and find a blond head perched on Harry's lap or lying on a sofa next to the couch he was sleeping on. He never said that he was checking in on Harry on Hermione's account, but it showed through the relief that dominated his features every time he found the two still bodies that were breathing deeply, fast asleep.

Every time that he found Draco sleeping there on the couch or in a guest room next to Harry's bedroom, he would know that his best friend was alright – he had not spent any time alone. When he had someone to distract him from his darker thoughts, Ron knew there was nothing to worry about.

But some days, he would find the house empty save for Harry, no sign of Draco having slept over, and on those days he would rush to Harry's side in worry, his eyes roaming the limp body on the bed, looking for any damage.

Harry had reassured Hermione that he was not suicidal, and maybe he really wasn't, but Ron sometimes saw the desperate and hungry gleam in his eyes when he looked at the cut that was by now only a faded brown on the back of his hand. He stared at it with a barely restrained expression as if he wanted to cut even deeper, draw even more blood.

Ron saw no trace of his best friend in the dark and hungry man that was restless without more blood and he worried. Nevertheless, he didn't call Harry out on it. He just hoped that Hermione would soon end the silent treatment and start shouting some sense into Harry. He was great at talking about sports and making Harry laugh out loud, but he was rubbish at talking about _feelings._

He bit his lip and gazed at the comfortably sprawled bodies before him. Hoping that Draco was good for Harry and would be a prominent feature in his life seemed the best he could do right now. The last thing the brunette needed right now was to lose the only one that he seemed to rely on so much these days.

A shot of jealousy went through Ron as he looked at the intertwined fingers of Draco and Harry that hung close to the ground. They had stayed interlaced throughout the night, even though they had fallen asleep on two separate couches. Harry seemed to trust Draco more than anyone in his life; only after knowing him for a couple of months, while he had known Ron and Hermione for most of his life. He couldn't believe how easily Harry let Draco get close to him, when he kept Ron and Hermione at arm's length.

But then again, the blond could probably give Harry something that Ron would never be able to.

xXx

Draco woke up with a yawn and a stretch. Upon stretching, he came to realize that his right hand was elsewhere occupied. He turned his head and was faced with Harry's soft fingers lazily twisted around his own. He remembered falling asleep while talking about Astoria and his unsuccessful marriage. Sometime in the middle of that, some cooped up emotions had overcome Draco as he thought about Scorpius and all that he'd been through. Harry had held onto his hand to offer support and comfort. He smiled softly, thankful for the small contact.

They had spent most nights talking about their earlier lives and going through their memories; although Harry had yet to talk about any of his past relationships. Still, he believed that the brunette had come a long way from keeping his walls high and Draco behind a locked door.

He saw a shadow in the corner of his eyes and turned his head further. Ron was standing there, his gaze locked on their intertwined hands. Draco easily read the wistfulness in his expression. He frowned, not understanding the envy that rang through Ron. Slowly sitting up, he caught Ron's eyes, startling him slightly. He tiptoed to the doorway, mindful of Harry's light sleep, and glared at the intruding ginger.

"That's the fourth time I've caught you here at dawn looking at Harry and I in a funny way," He whispered.

"Erm, What? I don't look at you guys in a funny way," Ron said defensively and frowned, crossing his arms.

Draco gave him a cold and pointed stare.

"Is there something going on between you two? 'Cause I thought you were married to _Hermione,_ not Harry, and that was definitely jealousy I saw in your face."

"God, Malfoy! There's nothing like that going on!" Ron regarded Draco with a look of disgust. "I'm just here to check up on him. And I just... it's just hard seeing him open up to you and let you in so easily when he keeps Hermione and I –his best friends, mind you– at arm's length. We have to drag everything out of him word by word, and he's known us for years! We've been through a lot together. You two just met, and already he's telling you things about his childhood that he was never comfortable telling us about."

Draco dismissed Ron's bitter tone and held onto the first part of his accusing speech.

"Check up on him? Why? There's nothing wrong with him. Do you mean..." It was Draco's turn to give Ron a disgusted look. "Do you mean you're checking to see if we're shagging yet or not?"

Ron's face turned a horrible shade of red and he started coughing uncontrollably.

"WHAT? Of course not!" Ron half-shouted. "I don't know what kind of a twisted mind you have Malfoy, but can you please not go around talking to me about...shagging...my best friend? That puts images in my head that should not be there!"

Draco shrugged, not at all apologetic. Harry stirred in his sleep at the loud tone of Ron's voice and the two looked at him cautiously for a few moments before Ron lowered his voice and continued.

"I'm checking up on _him_, not the two of you. I wanted to make sure he's okay."

The blond gave him a puzzled look and something clicked in Ron's head. Draco didn't know about the cutting. Harry hadn't trusted him with that. There were still some things that Ron knew about Harry; things that Draco didn't. The pride and satisfaction burst through him, but vanished as suddenly as it had come when he remembered that he knew about the self-inflicted wounds not because Harry had told him, but because Hermione had accidentally stumbled upon the fact.

Draco was still giving him a questioning look but it wasn't Ron's secret to tell. And besides, he liked keeping the blond in the dark about at least this one secret.

"It's just been really hard on him since Anthony," Ron shrugged, retreating slowly towards the front door of the house.

Draco's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Ron wasn't telling him the whole truth, which was evident. He seemed too worried about something that didn't seem that disastrous to Draco. There had to be more to it than that. Harry would still sometimes drown in his thoughts but it wasn't as often as before. Even if he did get horribly depressed, what would he do that had Ron checking up on him every single morning, worry written plainly on his features?

He was still gazing at the peaceful expression on Harry's face as he slept when Ron closed the door behind him and left.

What were they hiding from him?

xXx

Breakfast passed in silence. Harry had awoken to a thoughtful Draco sending searching glances in his direction every now and again. He pushed the crumbs on his plate around in circles for a few minutes before finally looking up.

"Everything okay?" He asked cautiously.

The blond nodded and swallowed his bitten piece of toast.

"Ron was here this morning," Draco said and kept his eyes on Harry to see the smallest changes in his expression.

"Was he? What did he want?" The brunette asked as he picked up his cup of coffee. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"He's been coming to 'check up on you,' as he so eloquently puts it." Draco said as he leaned back in his chair.

The look of surprise on Harry's face was almost believable. If Draco hadn't been expecting it, he would have easily missed the understanding and sadness that flashed through the green eyes for a second before it was gone altogether. He had a feeling that he had just confirmed Harry's own suspicions and doubted the reason of Ron's early morning visits were limited to Anthony's leave.

"_Been _coming? How long has this been going on?" Harry tried to keep the worry out of his tone.

Draco heard it anyway.

"Ever since your fight with Hermione, I'd say."

An understanding mixed with sorrow took hold of Harry's expression and at that moment Draco knew beyond a doubt that he had been right. There was something more. Something related to Hermione and Harry's earlier disagreement.

Harry sighed and got up.

"Well, I'll tell him to quit checking up on me." He frowned. "I'll take away his key if I have to."

He'd given Ron and Hermione a spare key to his house ever since the day they'd had to stand outside for five minutes in the freezing cold weather. It was the only way he could get Ron to stop nagging at him for being too lazy and not caring about him and whether or not his fingers started falling off one by one from frostbite.

Draco nodded slowly and stood up too.

"Harry, I..." Harry looked up at him curiously and Draco swallowed. He'd been meaning to ask this for a long time. "What happened between Anthony and you?"

Harry ducked his head and let it hang forward for a while, avoiding Draco's eyes. He'd been trying to avoid the subject and drive Anthony out of his mind. But it seemed wherever he went, there was something right behind the corner to bring back memories of the dark blond.

"I got up one day and he was gone." He shrugged. "Guess he got tired of waiting."

"Waiting? Waiting for what?"

"For me," Harry answered vaguely and turned to dump his dirty dishes in the sink.

The pile of unwashed dishes there reminded him of the overdue cleaning ritual with Hermione and he felt whatever calmness left inside him shatter. Today was going to be the second Monday that he would come home to a quiet house with a sleeping Balthazar instead of the familiar clatter and bangs of Hermione's vigorous cleaning. The last two Fridays had also been the only Fridays in years that they hadn't had dinner together at Ron and Hermione's house. Harry had felt awkward and out of place on both nights, but could see no way out of it. He would not confess to having done wrong and was damned if he got reduced to begging.

However, he doubted he could go on for much longer if the silent treatment continued. He'd never realized how much he needed Hermione's friendship before this. He wistfully ran his hand over his faded scar that had caused this.

The razor was back to calling him every moment of every day. He willed the desire to go away. But knowing without a doubt that his resolve would soon shatter and he'd give in to the delicious pain didn't help his cause. When he closed his eyes, he could feel the caress of the steel against his skin. He _yearned _for it.

Draco stared wide eyed. Harry had his eyes closed and was biting his lip, brushing the back of his left hand with his fingertips longingly. He stepped closer cautiously, feeling as if he was intruding in a very private moment, and placed a hand on Harry's back.

Harry started and looked up at him from under the long strands of hair half-covering his eyes. It gave him a vulnerable and fragile look, but Draco's attention was focused on his left hand. When Harry's right hand slipped from it, a small straight scar came into view.

"Harry?" Draco choked.

He couldn't take his eyes off the cut. In that moment, he knew. He knew what they had been hiding from him. And he wished, wished with his entire being, that he didn't.

Harry looked desperately at Draco's retreating form and lifted his hand, reaching out to him silently.

A sense of Déjà vu took hold of Draco. He saw the same expression on an older and more female face. The same desperate eyes, begging for understanding and forgiveness. The same outreached hand, meaning to comfort, but only succeeding in driving him further away. It brought him nausea. He had to get out. Leave. Leave _now._

The broken expression on Harry's face only made Draco's feet move faster. When the door slammed shut behind the blond, Harry felt the vibration shake him to his core. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks and he slid to the kitchen floor without meaning to, his feet too weak to hold his dead weight.

What had just happened?

xXx

He never made it to work that day. The afternoon rolled by and Harry was still on the floor, clutching Balthazar to his chest to soothe the pain and emptiness away. It wasn't working very well, which only made him hug the small dog tighter.

That was how Hermione found him, with a blank expression on his face and dried trails of tears on his cheeks.

"Harry!" She gasped.

He directed his blank look at her as she ran across the kitchen towards him.

"Hermione?" He croaked. He cleared his throat painfully and tried again. "Hermione? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry about our fight! I should have realized that abandoning you like that would be counterproductive. I should have stood by you. I'm so sorry, Harry." She kneeled before him and put her arms around his shaking body. "But what happened? Why are you sitting on the kitchen tiles? They're so cold. _You're _so cold. You're shaking, Harry."

Harry tried to talk but his voice cracked and new tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Hey! Come here," Hermione tightened her hold on him and rocked them back and forth. "It's going to be alright, Harry."

"No, it's not!" He half sobbed. "Draco knows. He _knows_ 'Mione. You should have seen how he looked at me. He left the house as fast as he could. He left. Without saying a word."

Harry started to sob harder. Hermione internally cursed Draco for causing Harry the all familiar pain of abandonment after being such a prominent feature in the brunette's life. She bit her lip as she remembered that she'd abandoned Harry for two weeks herself.

"He'll be back, Harry," She whispered.

He shook his head and sniffed.

"He won't," Harry said softly.

He wouldn't go through this anymore. He was done with the pain and remorse. He pushed himself off the ground as Hermione watched him worriedly. He grabbed a tissue and wiped the tears off.

"I don't care anymore. You were right. The cutting doesn't help _anything_!" He looked disgustedly at the faded scar that he had so lovingly gazed upon only hours before. "I just… I really miss Anthony, you know?"

"No, Harry, I don't know," Hermione said quietly, carefully looking away from Harry. She didn't want to break his heart into even tinier pieces, but she had to be honest about this. "You never talk about it. I know he broke your heart when he left. But you missing him… I don't know anything about that."

Harry looked at her with a gaping mouth.

"I do miss him," He said more to himself than her. "Why else would its overbearing pain drive me to… to cut?"

"Honestly, Harry, I think that you were just looking for an excuse to start cutting again. Even if Anthony hadn't left you, you would have found another reason for it. If they were out of your favourite coffee blend, for example." She continued when he started frowning. "Come on, Harry. Even when Anthony was here, you barely paid him any attention. You two didn't share that close a relationship."

Harry started to tell her that they had in fact had a great relationship, thank you very much, but an exasperated Hermione cut him short.

"Why do you think he left, Harry? You wouldn't let him get close to you. Everything he knew about you were either superficial things that everyone else knows as well, or things that Ron and I had told him about. You never opened up to him. You were always thinking about Draco, not Anthony. First it was all about finding him again and then it was about getting away from him. That's why he left. He could feel that you didn't really want him there."

"I… Oh my God, 'Mione." Harry looked at Hermione in wonder. "How long have you been holding that in?"

"A long time," Hermione said as she laughed nervously, partly relieved to finally have said it.

"I-I really screwed up everything, didn't I?" He gave her a sad smile.

"It's not too late, Harry. You can fix it with Draco. What you have with him… it would be worth it." She returned his smile.

Harry looked at his feet for a few moments before answering.

"I'm not sure I want to," He whispered.

The silence that followed was absolute. It rang in his ear and echoed inside of him. He left the kitchen and a speechless Hermione behind.

He thought about everything that had happened in the previous year. He'd wasted a whole year on a man that had run off on him after a single moment of peeking inside Harry's troubled life. Did he really want to fight for someone like that? Someone that wouldn't do the same for him?

He bit his lip and flopped on the bed. He hated evaluating the back and forth relationship he'd had with Draco like this, but couldn't stop the pros and cons list from forming in his head.

He couldn't understand the expression on Draco's face as he fled. When Hermione had found out, she'd been freaked, sure, but she had confronted him and talked about it. The way that Draco had reacted, it seemed too extreme. It had hurt Harry more than he wanted to admit. He hadn't wanted Draco to know, but had liked to believe that if he were to tell the blond, they would get past it.

Apparently their bond wasn't as strong as Harry had imagined it to be.

xXx

Draco didn't glance at the clock in Narcissa's room when eight o'clock rolled by and there was still no sign of Harry. He kept going over the documents in front of him, willing all thoughts of the particular brunette away.

Only, it was easier said than done. No matter how many times he read the statistics on the page and went over the analysis, still the grief-stricken expression on Harry's face haunted him.

"Isn't Harry coming today?" Narcissa asked under her breath as she sat up.

Draco looked up at her with a start, not having realized that she was awake.

He wanted to say no, but a small part of him still hoped that Harry would show up and everything would be okay. He scolded himself mentally. He had enough things to worry about in his life. He didn't need another person's welfare to pile up on the already heavy load that he was carrying.

"No, Mother. I don't think he is."

The chill in his voice stopped Narcissa from questioning him further and she left it at that, swiftly changing the subject to lighter matters.

They talked about Narcissa taking up knitting and Draco teased her about being a 'proper' grandmother until Scorpius showed up, followed by Astoria. After a glare in Draco's direction, a cold acknowledgment, and a kiss on Narcissa's cheek, they left for lunch. The silence was always filled with the chatters of Scorpius or Narcissa as she tried to get him to eat cleaner; and yet Draco was never distracted enough to forget the significant absence of a smiling brunette that was fond of Scorpius and would have had him laughing loudly in seconds instead of the frown that Narcissa's scrutiny had placed on his face.

Draco played with the corns in his plate, lost in thought. Harry had brought a lot to his life. It was hard to think back to the time when he hadn't been a part of his daily schedule. His buzzing presence was addictive and when Draco was with him, he forgot about the hole that Lucius's actions had punched into his life or the sorrow that clenched his heart every time he thought about Narcissa's pain and the fact that she couldn't even live in her own house because of its darkness. He could bear the pain of having lost Scorpius to Astoria when Harry was standing by his side. He could envision a brighter future. Harry brought out a hopeful side of Draco that was now lost without him.

Was that worth all the pain and damage that he had seen in Harry? He knew that the sort of agony that pushed someone to cut would take years to get over. The harm inflicted on Harry must have been greater than he had imagined and he wasn't sure he could invest his life only to find him gone one day, deciding that the pain was too much and no amount of Draco's help would be enough. He was already juggling enough people and felt as if he was stretched too thin. He knew that he was close to his breaking point. The one thing he had thought he'd be able to count on was Harry's support. He'd thought he could rely on his strength to keep him going when everything else was dragging him down.

Anger flared inside him. He felt cheated, betrayed. The somewhat irrational feeling that Harry had lied to him and hid that damaged part of him, deluding Draco into believing that he was the strong one when he wasn't, screamed at Draco.

xXx

"Harry?" Hermione's muffled voice travelled through the closed door of the bathroom. "Everything okay in there?"

She cautiously pushed the door open when no answer came after a few minutes had passed.

"Harry?" She asked again worriedly when she found him standing in front of the sink and staring forwards blankly.

She followed his gaze and saw the two toothbrushes that had stolen his attention. She sighed softly, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Harry slowly looked up at her with a pained expression and swallowed.

"He kept an extra one here for the nights he stayed over," Harry explained unnecessarily.

Hermione nodded understandingly and gently pulled him out of the bathroom. He reluctantly followed.

"At least Anthony took all of his things with him when he up and left," Harry said, letting out a humourless and bitter laugh.

"Do you want me to throw it away for you?" Hermione asked quietly as she gently rubbed soothing circles on his back.

"What? No!" Harry looked at her with panicked eyes.

She stared back, confused.

"Okay, Harry. Calm down, I won't," She reassured him.

He sighed and looked down. The toothbrush brought back the memories of waking up in the mornings and finding a dishevelled blond frowning at the wrinkles in his clothes and putting on a shirt of Harry's instead. He remembered how they had brushed their teeth together, fighting over who got to wash up first and rushed to go set the coffee. He remembered getting their laundries mixed up and finding shirts or pants that didn't belong to him, but folding them and putting them away in his drawers anyway for the next time the blond would need new clothes, since he spent most days at Harry's place. He remembered falling asleep to the calming sound of Draco's deep breaths and his warm presence. He remembered wanting to climb onto the sofa besides him and fall asleep tangled together but staying on his side of the room because he wasn't sure if he was ready for what these feelings meant.

A tear fell down the corner of his eye as he thought about never again having the chance to sleep pressed to Draco.

Hermione wiped the tear away and hugged him tightly.

"Don't fight it Harry. It's okay to want him back. It's okay to go after him. It's okay to fight for what's there between you, even if you find out that it wasn't worth it later on. You have to give it a shot or you'll never know for sure." Hermione said gently. It broke her heart to see him in so much pain and she blamed Draco, but couldn't stand between them either. "Not knowing for sure will only bring you more suffering, Harry."

Harry looked up at her, a fire rekindled in his eyes. He did want Draco back. And he would go get him back. It wasn't too late.

She offered him a sad smile and watched him rush out the door.

"Good luck," She murmured after him.

xXx

That night, when Draco parked his car and walked up to his front door, a familiar and wet body separated from the shadows and pressed itself against him. A hot breath ghosted over his face before soft lips pasted themselves to his. The kiss was slow and hesitant. It gave Draco every opportunity to back out of it, and grew more passionate when he didn't break the kiss and returned it instead.

His surprise was evident, but the unexpected kiss melted the rest of his shock and anger at Harry away.

"Harry," He whispered against his lips and pressed the tip of his tongue to them.

They parted and granted him entrance. A warm tingle travelled down his spine, gathering in the pit of his stomach and groin at the rush of kissing Harry.

Hearing his name called in such a sensual way and mingled with so much desire turned Harry on more than he had expected. A sudden need took hold of him and he held onto Draco's tongue, sucking on it gently.

Draco opened his eyes with surprise and then closed them again as pleasure soared through him. He moaned into Harry's mouth. It felt so _good._

His mind finally caught up with him and he put a hand on Harry's chest and took a step away from him, breathless.

"Why are you so wet?" He tried to keep his eyes from travelling down to Harry's red lips.

Instead, he was faced with Harry's flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes and slightly panting form. Water was dripping from the strands of his hair and his shirt was soaked, sticking to his body. Draco tried hard not to pull Harry back into a kiss and forget about everything else.

"It was raining," Harry explained.

"It was raining two hours ago," Draco said as he frowned in confusion.

"I… yeah," Harry said sheepishly.

"Wait… you… you _walked _all the way across town to here? _Why_?" Draco asked, astonished.

"Yeah, well, the toothbrush. And then the shirts, and sofa, and coffee," Harry rushed.

"You're here because of… a toothbrush?" Draco asked, confused. He had no idea what Harry was talking about.

He looked down at the hand that he'd placed on Harry's chest to keep them separated. The silence followed as Harry glanced down too. His fingers tangled in Harry's shirt on their own account and he looked up at Harry with open desire. He couldn't remember why he'd been angry with Harry before. He just knew that he wanted him.

The brunette took a step forwards and closed the distance between them, leaning in to kiss Draco. The kiss had an urgent edge to it this time.

Draco hungrily returned the kiss, his free hand reaching out and twisting into the dark and partially wet strands of hair. He pulled Harry's face even closer and deepened the kiss. He wasn't sure which one of them moaned this time, so lost in pleasure he was. The hand that was on Harry's chest travelled down to the hem of his shirt and pushed it up, running wandering fingers on the smooth skin.

He frowned, breaking off the kiss to catch his breath.

"Why didn't you wear a coat? You're so cold Harry. You're going to get sick in this weather."

"I sort of rushed out of the house on impulse, just focusing on getting here," Harry said, looking sheepish once more. "I didn't think about the cold."

Draco laughed and unlocked the door. He pulled Harry inside and into the living room with him before he finally remembering how they had parted in the morning and the reason for Harry being here at all. He let go of the hand he'd been holding and his smile vanished.

Harry tensed, feeling the change in the atmosphere. He swallowed under Draco's hard stare and realized he had to do more than show up out of the blue and kiss the blond to make the problem go away.

"The cutting bothers you," he whispered almost inaudibly. "I won't do it anymore."

Draco frowned.

"I wasn't aware there had been more than one cut," He replied just as quietly. "I'm not sure I can deal with this Harry. If you had told me about it in the beginning; on second thought, no, even if you _had _told me, it still would have been too much. I am constantly worried about my father, mother, son and business. I don't want to have to worry about you too, Harry."

"I get it," Harry said dejectedly. "You don't want to have to take care of me. It's fine."

He turned to leave. Coming here had been a mistake. He should have just taken the rejection and left Draco alone.

A hand stretched out and took hold of his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"I didn't mean it that way," Draco said softly. "I do want to take care of you. The kind that your lover does when you have the flu or a high fever. But this is too much Harry. I can't take it."

Harry felt anger well up in him.

"I said I wouldn't do it anymore! What more do you want from me?" He shouted in Draco's face.

Draco took a step back, his own anger returning.

"Give me a little credit here! How am I supposed to believe you? How can I trust you after this? You could be lying through your teeth! You'll go and do it again; the only difference would be that this time you'll try to hide it better. That's not good enough, Harry! I want you to be honest with me!" Draco took a deep breath and continued more calmly, "To be honest with yourself."

"And why are you so convinced that I'm lying? I _am _being honest!" Harry snapped back.

He hated it when people tried to take control of his life like this. He despised it when they thought they knew him better than he did and ordered him around accordingly.

"Because..." Draco looked straight into Harry's eyes, daring him to challenge what he was about to say next. "Because Mother said that same line. She _promised _me she wouldn't do it anymore, and then one day I found blood in her bathroom sink when I went to grab some aspirin. She tried to tell me that it wasn't her blood and when that didn't work; she told me she'd gotten a nosebleed and hadn't wanted to make me worry.

"My mother has never gotten a nosebleed in her entire life, as she's always been so proud to announce," Draco said coldly. "She was lying to me. My own mother. That's what cutting reduces you to. That's what any addiction reduces you to. That's why she's in St. Mungo's now. I'm trying to protect her from her own darkness, Harry. From the memories that the house bombards her with; memories that she cannot handle.

"I don't want to have to watch you go on the same path. I'm tired of being lied to. I want to be able to trust you; but how can I? There's no hope for us Harry," Draco whispered sadly.

Harry felt a fire come to life inside of him. Draco had presented him with a challenge. He believed that Harry would destroy himself and his life. He would prove him wrong. He was good at that. He would fight for their relationship. As long as he had something to fight for, he would do it.

Draco looked suspiciously at the new expression forming on Harry's face.

Harry stepped closer to the blond and looked sincerely into grey eyes.

"Draco, I honestly _will_ stop. I stopped for five years once: I know that I can do it. This time, it will be for good." His voice dropped a level and he smiled seductively at Draco. "You can check me over every night if you want to; so you can make sure that I'm not lying or hiding anything. We can start right now."

Harry started pulling his shirt off as a deep blush covered Draco's cheeks at his suggestive words. He put both hands on Harry's and stopped him from undressing.

"It's-it's okay," Draco stammered. His eyes were pasted on the few inches of bare skin on Harry's flat stomach.

"Draco," Harry smirked. "Make up your mind. Either the problem is my honesty, or it's something else that you're not telling me. If it's honesty you want, this is the most practical way of getting it."

Draco swallowed and tried to force his blush away. Before meeting Harry, he didn't remember blushing like a lovesick teenager. Now, it seemed that he was blushing every day. He looked at the brunette accusingly.

"There's no point doing it now. I'm positive that since you told me you wouldn't cut anymore and now, you've kept your word. It's only been a couple of minutes, Harry." He tried his best sarcastic tone, but failed as his voice was huskier than usual with the desire he was feeling. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"But you have to see the scars that I already have so you'll know if there's anything new later on," Harry said and grinned devilishly.

Draco wanted to point out that he'd definitely be able to tell a fresh wound from an old scar, but the words were lost somewhere in the back of his throat as Harry shook his hands free and took off his shirt.

Draco's freed hands dangled uselessly in the air for a moment before they settled on Harry's bare chest, gently trailing the smooth lines with a wonder. His eyes came up to meet Harry's but paused on his lips. He stared fixedly as a tongue darted out to wet dry lips and an overwhelming desire pulled him to those lips. He licked the bottom lip before gently pulling on it with his teeth, a new set of emotions akin to pleasure buzzing inside him at the bliss.

Harry pressed closer to him at the silent demand and twirled his tongue around Draco's. His hands travelled under his shirt and he felt the soft tremor go through the lean body at the contact. He broke off the kiss to clumsily pull off Draco's shirt, but before he could turn to throw it on the back of a chair, their lips sought out each other and the shirt fell forgotten onto the floor.

Draco gasped at the cold air encasing him. Harry's arms were around him in less than a second, trying to rub the goose bumps away. He relaxed into the touch and smiled against Harry's lips.

"What?" Harry asked, pulling his face away a fraction and smiling back.

"I thought you wanted to show me _your _scars... I don't see how taking off my shirt helps achieve that goal," He said teasingly.

"Uh, I'm insecure about being the only one who's naked and you're helping me adapt?" Harry tried hopefully.

Draco snorted and pulled Harry close once more. He ran his fingers over the pale skin and tried to find his scars. Harry stood still silently and kept his eyes on Draco's, all of his playfulness having had vanished, not wanting to see what Draco would find.

Wandering fingers brushed past his left forearm and Draco kneeled in front of Harry, squinting in order to see better.

"There's a long one here," He whispered. "It's almost completely faded."

Harry let out the breath he'd been holding in, relieved that he hadn't found a note of disgust or horror in Draco's tone, just one of curiosity and sadness.

"And of course, one here," Draco said as his fingers ghosted over the scar under Harry's left thumb.

"And I think...is that a small one there?" He asked quietly as he paused under Harry's left ring finger.

Harry nodded silently; gazing sadly into Draco's questioning eyes.

Soft fingers brushed against his chest and the stomach, before Draco sighed in relief and said, "That's it. Nothing else."

Harry kept his eyes on Draco's and slowly unbuttoned his jeans, pulled the zipper down and let it pool around his feet. He stepped out of it and waited for Draco's fingers to continue their search.

Draco took a moment to get used to the sight of a down-to-his-boxers Harry in his living room and then started trailing his fingers over his thigh.

Harry shivered at the alien contact but stilled after he got used to the touch. Draco gasped as he went over a large scare above Harry's knee. He looked up into worried green eyes, then leaned forward and placed a kiss on the long scar, a silent tear rolling down his cheek.

Harry kneeled beside Draco on the ground and kissed the tear away.

"Why did you do this to yourself, Harry?" Draco murmured.

"I was young and stupid and life seemed so hopeless and hard back then," Harry said.

"But... you're doing it again now," Draco accused.

"It was only _one _small cut!" Harry said defensively. He sighed and continued more rationally, "It's just hard to stop once you've started."

"Then why did you start again? And don't say Anthony," Draco added when he saw Harry opening his mouth to readily throw him the practiced answer. "Your argument with Hermione, and hence the cut, was weeks _after_ Anthony, Harry. Why start again when you had stopped for five years?"

Harry bit his lip and thought back to that night.

"Anthony _was _the trigger. But also, I wondered if I still had it in me to do it, you know?" Harry looked at him uncertainly. "I wanted to see if I still had the courage to put the blade on my skin and slice it open."

Draco shivered involuntarily and slowly let out his breath.

"It's not about courage, Harry." Draco held onto his hand and tried to reason. "It's the complete opposite. It's giving in to weakness when you pick up that razor. Courage is to go on day to day, living in hardship, facing your fears and problems, instead of hiding from them in the shadows."

"I never looked at it that way," Harry said in wonder. "I just thought about how much I wanted it and how good it felt."

"Don't do it anymore," Draco pleaded.

Harry kissed him softly and whispered, "I won't."

They were both quiet after that emotionally exhausting hour. They somehow made it upstairs and into Draco's bedroom however as Draco refused to go to sleep on the cold sofa when there was a perfectly comfortable and warm bed waiting upstairs.

Harry was too tired to even put his clothes back on as an extra layer of protection against the cold bite in the air and slipped under the covers next to the blond. The bed was indeed warm, which was a wonder, since the room was as cold as the living room had been. Draco kept his shirt off, but didn't bother doing anything about his pants. All he could do before he fell asleep was put an arm around Harry's small form and pull him closer.

Although Harry was just as exhausted, if not more, as Draco, his head was filled with a million different thoughts and he couldn't go to sleep. He rested his head on Draco's chest and listened to the steady heartbeat.

He felt as if a heavy load had lifted from his chest. Draco had seen him, really seen him, and had accepted him. None of his ex-lovers had ever known the truth about his scars. It felt amazing to be accepted for who he truly was.

He snuggled further into the warm hold and thought to himself, _Draco Malfoy, My boyfriend._

His lips shaped the word _boyfriend_. He decided that he liked it. He liked it very much.

Draco pulled him closer in his sleep, twisting his leg around Harry's. He took comfort in the intimacy of the unconscious gesture and was finally able to fall asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Notes: **Alright, this is the last one. I'm going away for a week, so I wanted to update before then.

Thanks for the reviews and sticking with me :)

**Chapter 11:**

Draco woke up to kisses trailing down his body.

"Mm," He managed to get out as he stretched under the sweet attention.

"Morning," Harry whispered against his skin.

Draco shivered under his cold breath. He reached down and pulled Harry's face up for a kiss.

A disappointed Harry watched the blond frown midway and jump out of bed. He watched the half-naked body disappear into the bathroom and followed suite with a pout.

They brushed their teeth in silence. Draco tried to snake an arm around Harry's waist, but the brunette sidestepped and ignored the hurt look that Draco gave him.

Draco rinsed his mouth before saying, "Morning."

He received a cold glare for his trouble before Harry ducked to rinse his own mouth.

"What's wrong?" Draco frowned.

"Apparently hygiene is more important than kissing me good morning."

Draco held Harry close and placed a kiss on his pursed lips. He gave the brunette a puzzled look when his expression didn't change after the apology.

"Morning breath is disgusting, Harry," He offered.

Harry threw up his hands in the air and walked out of the bathroom. He threw himself on the bed and stared out the window at nothing. He felt the mattress slant slightly under new weight as Draco sat on its corner but did nothing to acknowledge his presence.

"You know how I feel about being clean," Draco said quietly. He couldn't figure out why Harry was acting this way.

A sigh rose from the small form and Harry turned his head to look at Draco's confused face.

"I know… I-I just want to come first to you."

"You do come first to me," Draco's frown deepened. "What's this really about, Harry?"

He placed his hand on Harry's back when the brunette turned his head to look back out the window instead of answering him. Harry tried to shrug it off; but since he was lying flat on his stomach right next to Draco, his attempts were mostly unsuccessful and the blond only had to tighten his hold to stop him from wriggling.

"It's not going to work between us," Harry said under his breath.

The whispered words were uttered as the softest of breaths, but as they made their way to Draco, they became the sharpest pins sinking through his skin. He tried not to flinch back at the hopeless tone of Harry's voice. Had he not had a lifetime of perfecting his hold on the cold mask he wore at the toughest of times, he would have lost his composition in mere seconds. As it was, it came close to shattering. However, he'd only tasted a fraction of what being with Harry felt like and it left him wanting more; so he tried to respond calmly.

"What makes you say that?" He asked slowly as he tried to see all of Harry's possible answers beforehand and his own comebacks to shrug them off.

Hermione's words echoed through Harry's mind… _if you find out it wasn't worth it later on_.

"We come from two completely different worlds. We have different values. Money's the least valuable thing to me, but it's your life. I grew up yearning for even one day with my parents and you grew up resenting them. We want different things out of life. You want to get your son back without murdering Astoria in the process. You want to make your business strive in order to clear the perception people have of your family based solely on your father's actions.

"My ambitions come nowhere close to the fulfilling roles you've drawn for yourself. The only thing I want is to fill this hole inside of me. To go through one day without breaking down. When the novelty of our new relationship wears off, we'll realize how different we truly are and fight all the time," Harry looked sadly into grey cloudy eyes. "What we have between us, it's not going to work."

Draco wanted to wrap his arms around the broken man under him and protect him from the world. He couldn't picture what Harry was talking about. He couldn't imagine ever not wanting the brunette.

"Nothing is going to wear off, Harry. This isn't new. We've known each other for over a year," He argued.

"We've been _chasing_ each other for over a year. It's only the rush of the chase. It's not real. We're too different for it to work out." He shook his head in denial.

"Opposites attract, Harry. It's actually a good thing that we're different. I can help you fill that emptiness inside of you and show you how to dream again. How to want better things for yourself. And you," Draco's voice softened. "You keep me from losing myself in my work. You show me how beautiful life is. You take me places I've never been before and never would have placed foot in otherwise. You… you make me human."

Harry bit his lip and shook his head again, tears welling up in his eyes.

"It's not real," He repeated hollowly.

Draco groaned at his stubbornness and pulled on his shoulder, turning Harry to lie on his back and face him. Harry was still only in his boxers and Draco intended to take full advantage of that to get his point across. He looked Harry straight in the eyes and put his hand on his chest. Harry looked back at him blankly. Draco slowly moved his hand lower and lower, watching the spark that came to life behind the green eyes. He leaned down and placed a kiss on his bellybutton.

"Does this feel real?" He blew over the sensitive skin and moved higher to lick a circle around Harry's nipple.

Harry moaned in response and arched his back slightly, lost in sensation. Draco took that as a green light and brought his lips down over the hard nipple and sucked on it gently. Harry moaned louder and twisted his hands in the blond strands on his head. Draco went on teasing and licking until Harry didn't think he'd be able to take any more.

He moved up to his ear and whispered, "Well? Did that feel real?"

Harry nodded weakly and Draco pinched the now wet nipple gently.

"Yes, it felt real!" Harry replied out loud and Draco let the abused nipple go.

He slowly trailed his fingers down Harry's abdomen until he reached the hardened member that had grown stiff against his thigh as he sucked on his nipple. He lightly moved his hand over the length and whispered again, "Does this feel real?"

Harry put his hand over Draco's to press it down harder and closed his eyes in pleasure at the pressure.

"Yes, Draco, it feels real," He replied huskily and opened his lust-filled eyes.

The blond grinned and pulled off the restraining boxers. Harry gasped at the cold air engulfing him but shivered in pleasure when Draco's hand replaced the cold.

The intimate touch burned on his skin. He wanted this like he had never wanted anything before. No one had ever looked at him the way that Draco was looking at him now – as if Harry was the centre of his universe. He'd never had someone revel in pleasuring him without wanting something back. Draco seemed satisfied with pleasing Harry just as he was and was the less demanding lover Harry had ever had. The attention solely focused on him brought out a whole other side to the pleasure he was feeling and he didn't think he'd ever been this hard before.

He head his eyes closed, lost in the fire burning through him when wetness touched the tip of his heated flesh. He opened his eyes in surprise and the picture he was faced with brought out a loud moan.

Draco had his lips around him, looking up at Harry with glazed-over eyes. Harry felt himself respond to the desire he saw in them and he slightly arched his back, pushing himself further into the warm mouth. Draco smirked against him at the impatience and Harry thought he would come just looking at Draco's smiling lips as he took him in. he bit his lips, not taking his eyes off the blond.

Draco placed his hands on the bed on either side of Harry's hips and slowly brought his head down, taking in more of Harry's length. He felt it grow harder inside his mouth and felt his own hardened flesh throb in response. It was pressing against his tight jeans and he wanted badly to release the pressure, but his attention was completely focused on bringing Harry to his completion. He wanted the brunette's doubts about their relationship completely wiped out.

With a renewed passion, he circled the tip of the head with his tongue and curled it there as he moved his mouth up and down.

"Oh, Draco," Harry said weakly, overcome by so many different sensations that he could no longer keep his eyes open.

Encouraged by the throaty moan, Draco moved faster. He felt Harry's body stiffen under him, about to climax, and took his mouth away. Harry opened his eyes questioningly and Draco blew a warm breath against the sensitive flesh with a playfulness lurking behind his eyes.

Harry couldn't control himself any longer and came. Draco laughed gleefully as a defeated and panting brunette admitted that, "Yes, okay, this is real."

Harry felt too good to frown at the blonde's victorious laugh and settled on pulling him up and kissing him deeply to cut it off. When Draco's whole body pressed against his, he became aware of how the bulge in Draco's pants was straining against his jeans. He reached down and placed a hand on it, blushing slightly, already thinking of ways to repay him.

Draco pressed closer to Harry and said in a tone dripping with desire, "I want to be inside you, Harry."

Harry's blush deepened and he felt a warm tingle travel down to his groin. He kissed the blond one more time and then spread his legs slightly, returning his desire-filled look, and nodded once. Draco twisted around to open a drawer next to the bed and grabbed a tube of lube. He put some on his finger and rolled it around between his forefinger and thumb to warm it up. He then took it down to place it on Harry's entrance.

"You sure?" He asked, not wanting to take it too fast.

Harry spread his legs further and pressed down on the finger in response. Draco didn't move, wanting more reassurance.

"Draco," Harry sighed, reaching down to hold Draco's free hand in his own. He twisted his fingers around his tightly, giving him a sincere look that screamed of craving. "I want you inside me."

That was all Draco needed to push his finger in all the way. He watched Harry squirm, trying to get used to the alien pressure, flexing his muscles around his finger. When he nodded that he was ready, Draco started to slowly move his finger.

Soon, he had two fingers inside Harry, gently pushing them in and out. He added a third finger and the panting form under him started moaning. Draco couldn't take it any longer and took of his jeans, sighed in relief at the release, and pushed the top of his freed length against Harry's stretched entrance. Harry took hold of both of his hands. Draco pressed their intertwined fingers on the bed and held himself at an angle, slowly pushing in. Harry closed his eyes when Draco was all the way inside and took a deep breath. The blond stilled, giving him time to adjust.

Harry opened his dilated eyes and Draco started to gently pull back. Harry pushed back down against him after a moment and they started out on a slow rhythm, not breaking eye contact. He squeezed his muscles around Draco and the blond whimpered, closing his eyes against the shower of bliss.

"You feel wonderful Harry," Draco said as he leaned down to kiss him and quicken his thrusts.

Harry felt himself fully harden once more and his heated flesh rubbed against Draco's stomach. Draco reached down and put his hand around him, stroking him with each thrust. Their sweaty bodies slid and moved against each other as moans of pleasure filled the bedroom.

Draco changed the angle of his plunges and came into contact with a bundle of nerves inside Harry. The cry that escaped the brunette had him maintaining the same angle and hitting the same place over and over again until Harry arched his back off the bed and came into Draco's hand while shouting his name.

The loving expression with which Harry regarded Draco after he opened his eyes and the tight squeeze of his muscles as he came, brought on Draco's own culmination. He fell on the bed beside Harry, his arms twisted around the brunette limply.

Harry sighed against him in satisfaction. He couldn't think of ever tiring of this. He'd never connected with anyone on so many levels before. He knew that the blond cared greatly about him and he'd always be there for him. He knew that he'd do the same for Draco. He would fight alongside him for Scorpius and they would paint their future together however they wanted to.

"It's real," He said one last time to Draco before he fell into a deep sleep with a smile on his lips.

_**The end.**_


End file.
